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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24764506">as if tomorrow is the end of the world</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwoosan/pseuds/cosmicwoosan'>cosmicwoosan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apocalypse, Blow Jobs, Confessions, Crying, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Heavy Angst, Insecurity, Jealousy, Lack of Communication, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Orgy, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Sad Ending, Sad smut, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, lots of love confessions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:00:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24764506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwoosan/pseuds/cosmicwoosan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They make sure that not a single one of them is untouched. Huddled in a spaceless cluster, they hold each other close, skin on skin, hand in hand, wherever they can touch each other.</p><p>There’s a low rumbling somewhere, but it doesn’t sound like thunder.</p><p>-</p><p>in which there's an asteroid on a collision course towards Earth, and from the fear and anticipation of inevitable, impending death, the members of Ateez become closer than ever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi Jongho/Choi San/Jeong Yunho/Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang/Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa/Song Mingi, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Everyone/Everyone, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>310</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>as if tomorrow is the end of the world</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi.</p><p>So this fic is pretty heavy despite all the smut tags. A lot of emotions, lot of pent up feelings, talk of insecurities, and anxiety. As a disclaimer, yes, I wrote this in the canon verse, but I am in no way claiming to know what goes on behind the scenes or what their personalities are like. Please note that this is a work of fiction.</p><p>Just a few notes:<br/>-Each star symbol is a change in POV. There are some instances when the days change but it remains in the same POV, in which case, I do not use a star and the number of days is not followed by the name again. Towards the end (starting at '5 days before'), a few of those days don't have POVs, in which case I do not specify a name.<br/>-Pretty much everyone is involved with each other, but the pairings in the tags are the "main" ones.<br/>-There are some very minor implications of violence and suicide, though not explicitly stated and it does not involve any of the members.<br/>-The later portion is basically all emotional smut, but overall, the fic may be triggering to some. Please read with caution.</p><p>title from answer by ateez<br/>(i suggest 'from' and 'thank u' if you feel like crying)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>95 days before – Hongjoong</strong>
</p><p>For once, he’s home. He’s at the dorm, sheltered underneath the bunk, spine curved in what’s probably an unhealthy way, but he’s okay. It all works out. Exercise and physical therapy does wonders for his body.</p><p>He’s just tired, but that’s nothing new. Definitely nothing new.</p><p>Seonghwa is cleaning, another thing that isn’t new. As the oldest wipes away every last speck of dust in their room, Hongjoong taps away at his keyboard, arranging loops and beats to perfection, his masterpieces bumping in his headphones over the sound of Seonghwa’s squeaking wipes.</p><p>“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa’s voice barely penetrates the soundproof headphones. “Please tell me you’re actually going to sleep tonight.”</p><p>At the word ‘sleep,’ Hongjoong removes one side of his headphones. “You know I can’t promise you anything.”</p><p>Seonghwa scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You need as much rest as you can get. Come on, you know that. The tour is in two months.”</p><p>“Just because the tour is in two months doesn’t mean I can’t work on my music,” Hongjoong says, hand hovering above the headphone to move it back.</p><p>“I reiterate, you need as much rest as you can get. Your music can wait.”</p><p>Hongjoong instantly scowls and lets out a defeated sigh. Sure, it can. He has hundreds of songs saved away. None of which are polished or ready for production whatsoever, but to say that his songs can wait would be true. It’s something that all the members tell him, <em>to live in the present day</em>, because the songs they have now are what they need to prepare and polish to perfection. He can work on his music in between. He already knows he’ll be working on it on the plane.</p><p>Sucking in his bottom lip, Hongjoong surrenders, closing out of his last few tabs and tucking his laptop and headphones away. He doesn’t see, but Seonghwa smiles proudly.</p><p>“Thank you, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa says gratefully, wiping down the last of his belongings on his desk.</p><p>“Why are you thanking me?” Hongjoong asks.</p><p>“You know, you have a point. You should be thanking yourself instead.”</p><p>Hongjoong knows very well what Seonghwa means at this point. He’s heard the same words over and over again, has been on the receiving end of Seonghwa’s tirades and admonishments countless times. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why Hongjoong doesn’t come home as often as the members would like, but he tells himself time and time again, he’s doing this for <em>them</em>. He’s working hard and composing songs for <em>them </em>to be featured on, to let <em>their </em>voices shine. So that <em>all of them </em>will succeed now and for however long their time in the spotlight lasts.</p><p>Hongjoong never says that, though. Instead, he simply listens to Seonghwa scold him for overworking himself. But he knows his limits. He knows when he should sleep. It’s the other members who don’t seem to know.</p><p>(Or maybe they do. Maybe it’s the other way around, that they know when Hongjoong should sleep, but he never listens.)</p><p>When Hongjoong does come home, Seonghwa is there to take advantage of the momentous occasion by snuggling up to him for as long as Hongjoong will allow it. Most of the time, Hongjoong is too tired to tell Seonghwa to fuck off and sleep in his own bed. So he’ll simply fall asleep with Seonghwa next to him, bodies way too close for comfort on a twin-sized mattress, and sometimes, Seonghwa will still be there in the morning.</p><p>Hongjoong never tells Seonghwa this, but whenever he wakes up to Seonghwa still in his bed, he can’t help but smile a little.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>92 days before – Yunho</strong>
</p><p>Yunho is more energetic than usual, what with his birthday coming up in three days. The staff has scheduled a Vlive for him already, but once that’s over and done with, he knows it’ll be time to party his pretty not-so-little ass off because holy shit, he needs it so badly. Preparations for the upcoming tour have been stressful, as it always is, but he’s able to keep up his perky front with the help of his members.</p><p>He loves to see them smile. Seeing them smile makes him smile. And for that, he will gladly push through the aches in his muscles and the lack of sleep and act as goofy as he can in order to make them laugh.</p><p>He’s just glad that the company gives them <em>some </em>time off for their birthdays. And because Seonghwa’s birthday is only about two weeks after his, they get two whole days of break time in two weeks!</p><p>(Still, it’s important for them not to get <em>too </em>drunk on those nights since practicing with a hangover certainly isn’t ideal.)</p><p>After running through the same choreography for the past two hours, Yunho is sprawled out on the practice room floor, sweat dripping out from every pore, muscles begging for the day to be over with already, when he remembers he still has vocal lessons to attend. Great!</p><p>But it’s worth it, Yunho has to remind himself. It’s worth it because he’s on this journey with his best friends, his <em>family</em>, and there’s no time to show weakness. There’s no time to let the exhaustion or pain peek through. Sure, there are days where he allows himself to be vulnerable in front of San because his roommate has walked in on him crying on some occasions, but he makes San swear on his plushie collection that he won’t tell anybody.</p><p>The only other person who probably knows what he’s truly feeling is Mingi, but that’s seven years worth of friendship under their belt. Of <em>course </em>Mingi knows, but that doesn’t always mean his best friend will confront him about it.</p><p>So for the most part, he keeps his mouth shut. Not because he wants to, but because he has to. He’s pretty sure all of them are like that in one way or another, but maybe that’s why everyone turns to San whenever they need emotional support.</p><p>Because San <em>listens</em>, and he always knows what to say whether he realizes it or not. Not to mention San is extra cuddly and the endorphins from having him curled up next to him soothes his nerves and makes it easier to sleep at night.</p><p>Yunho knows when San needs support because he’ll disappear to Yeosang and Wooyoung’s room, but it’s surprising, to say the least, when he walks in on San on his bed that night with his face buried in Kuma’s rotund body, shoulders trembling as he sobs into the poor stuffed animal.</p><p>“Sannie, what’s wrong?” Yunho asks, settling beside San and carefully putting his arm around his roommate.</p><p>“Literally nothing.” San sniffles and fits his head onto Yunho’s shoulder. “Just stressed. Needed a good cry.”</p><p>“On <em>my </em>bed?” Yunho smirks.</p><p>“I missed you. Something wrong with that?”</p><p>Yunho chuckles and shakes his head, ruffling San’s hair slightly. San laughs weakly, sniffling again, and hugs Kuma tighter. “Well, I’m here now. Cuddle?”</p><p>San pouts and nods, leaning into Yunho further and inadvertently pushing him down onto his pillow.</p><p>“Cuddle.”</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>90 days before – Mingi</strong>
</p><p>Mingi feels like a pretty shitty best friend.</p><p>With schedules and preparations for the upcoming tour kicking all of their asses, Mingi finds no time to go out and get Yunho a present for his birthday. It’s happened for the past few years, and every time Yunho assures him that it’s okay and gives him that beaming smile of his. The smile with the raised cheeks and glowing eyes that remind Mingi of the fact that he may have a tiny crush on him. But it’s fine. Everything’s fine, apart from Mingi not being able to get Yunho a present for his birthday yet again.</p><p>One year in high school, Yunho had jokingly asked Mingi for a birthday kiss, and Mingi, being the shameless teenager he was, jokingly responded, “Don’t test me, I’ll actually do it.”</p><p>And Yunho had replied, “Okay, then.”</p><p>And he actually did it.</p><p>It wasn’t a <em>kiss </em>kiss; it was a mere peck on the lips because it was a <em>joke</em>. It was a dare, something that once again proved that Mingi wasn’t afraid to do something bold, and, well, it went better and worse than he expected.</p><p>For starters, Yunho wasn’t mad. In fact, he was endlessly amused that Mingi had the balls to kiss him. Back then, Mingi actually had the time to take him out to a nice dinner in addition to kissing him. Yunho laughed with stuffed cheeks and praised Mingi for being so bold; meanwhile, Mingi was panicking internally because he’d kissed Yunho and kind of liked it.</p><p>He had to constantly remind himself that he and Yunho were <em>friends</em>, that they were training to become something more than just high school students, and that he had no time for feelings or romance, <em>especially </em>for his best friend.</p><p>So he shoved those feelings so far down his throat and repressed them to a point, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t shine through now and again.</p><p>With each year that passes, whenever Yunho’s birthday rolls around, Mingi finds himself in his feelings all over again.</p><p>Well, this year, it seems as if the best Mingi can do is get him his favorite ice cream or a ‘personal servant for a day’ ticket or something, just like the past few years.</p><p>While waiting for Yunho to get back from his schedule, Mingi swipes through old photos of them and finds his mouth curved in a smile and tears welling up in his eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away because there’s no time for tears.</p><p>It’s nearing midnight. If Yunho isn’t back before then, Mingi will call him right on the dot.</p><p>Yunho gets back at 11:58.</p><p>“Mingi-yah?” Yunho says upon noticing his best friend sat on the living room sofa. “What are you doing here?” He glances around the room.</p><p>Mingi looks down at his phone. “Oh, you know, just waiting.”</p><p>Yunho narrows his eyes and smirks. “Waiting for what?”</p><p>“You know what I’m waiting for, you asshole.”</p><p>Yunho stands unmoving as Mingi continually checks his phone for the time.</p><p>(Not that he needs to. He literally has the alarm set.)</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>89 days before</strong>
</p><p>“Happy birthday, Yunho.”</p><p>And Yunho runs into his open arms.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>89 days before – San</strong>
</p><p>San is with Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Jongho when they decide to call Yunho during his live. In all their chaotic screaming, San thanks Yunho for being born, just as he does with all the other members when it’s their birthdays. Birthdays are some of his favorite days to celebrate because they’re permanent reminders of his loved ones’ existences, and really, truly, he is thankful for them being born.</p><p>(That, and he’s excited to actually spend time with the group back at home with some good takeout food courtesy of Hongjoong and possibly get tipsy.)</p><p>The company lets them all go early, but it’s no surprise that Hongjoong stays behind.</p><p>“Thought you talked to him about it,” San grumbles as Seonghwa spreads a disposable sheet over the living room table.</p><p>“Do you know how many times I’ve talked to him about it?” Seonghwa scoffs. “Look, he’ll be late, but he’ll come. If he doesn’t, he’ll never hear the end of it.”</p><p>As frustrating as it is, San has faith in Hongjoong. So far, he’s been keen on attending all of their birthday celebrations, even if he’s not the most punctual. San just hopes that he’ll actually stick around and <em>sleep</em>, because Hongjoong deserves this. He deserves good food and company and a (mostly) full night’s rest.</p><p>The remaining members sans Hongjoong return at the same time, with the birthday boy leading the way. Mingi’s on his back even though it’s nowhere near <em>his</em> birthday, and they’re each cheering nonsensical lyrics to different songs that clash over each other. San smiles at the sight.</p><p>An hour later, Hongjoong shows up with bags of food slung on his forearms. The members rush to greet him at the door while Yunho and San watch from the table, smiling at the arrival of their beloved leader.</p><p>“If only he’d attend his own birthday,” Yunho sighs with a sad smile.</p><p>“That’s his choice,” San says. “When he’s ready to actually <em>celebrate </em>his birthday, we’ll be ready.”</p><p>The members practically rip the bags of food off Hongjoong’s arms and unpack like ravenous wolves, dealing out plates and utensils like their lives depend on it. Seonghwa is the one to stop Wooyoung from digging in first, telling them that they should all raise a toast to Yunho and say words of encouragement or adoration.</p><p>“I’ll go first, since it’s my idea,” the oldest says, plastic cup of cola in hand. “Yunho-yah, congratulations on living another year. Our energizer, our vitamin, thank you for keeping spirits high and cheering us up when we need it most!”</p><p>“I’m so proud of you, Yunho-yah,” Hongjoong says, giving Yunho a solid pat on the shoulder. “Like Seonghwa said, thank you for being there for us when we need cheering up, a good laugh, or even just a smile. I’m sorry that I was late, but trust me, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you guys.” He glances around the room at every single one of them.</p><p>All of their messages say something to that extent or some variation of that, thanking Yunho for being the one to make them smile and laugh.</p><p>“Yunho, thank you for being born,” San starts. “Thank you for being arguably the best roommate. Thank you for giving me Kuma and letting me cuddle you when I’m sad.” Jongho fake gags, earning an admonishingly playful smack from Wooyoung. “And just… thank you for being you. I speak for all of us when I say we love you. Even Jongho.” The youngest pouts.</p><p>It’s Mingi’s turn last, and San already has a feeling about how his speech will go. Keep it short yet sweet, because he definitely has plenty more to say, and if he did speak on everything on his mind, they’d be here all night.</p><p>“Yunho,” Mingi says, raising his cup, “to my best friend of, like, seven or eight years.” A laugh resonates throughout the room. “Here’s to another year of friendship. I don’t know how I’m not sick of you yet, but then again, I know that I’ll probably never, ever get sick of you. So just keep doing you, don’t get sick, and let’s have another amazing year!”</p><p>After toasting to the birthday boy, they indulge in Hongjoong’s generous gift until their stomachs are ready to burst and their brains are pleasantly muddled from the alcohol.</p><p>“The boss asked me what I wanted this year,” Yunho announces to the group. “He said he felt bad that you guys don’t have the time to go out and get me something, so he offered to get me something on behalf of all of you.”</p><p>“If he’s gonna do that, he should at least <em>tell </em>us,” Wooyoung mutters.</p><p>“It’s a nice gesture,” Yunho says with a shrug, “but I told him I didn’t want anything.”</p><p>“Why?” San asks.</p><p>“I already have everything I want,” Yunho says, smiling brightly.</p><p>And that is why Yunho is the energizer. That is why he is the battery, the vitamin, the class clown, the one that everyone turns to when they need to smile. Because like their fans, Yunho’s smile shines brighter than the stars.</p><p>But San is also very sure that there are things about Yunho, about all of them, that they can’t put into words. He hopes Yunho realizes that he’s so much more than the energizer. That it’s not just his smile that keeps them going, that it’s not just his funny dance moves or silly facial expressions that make them laugh.</p><p>When Yunho has bad days, they all have bad days. When Yunho is sad, they’re all sad. It goes for each and every one of them. When San looks around at the members, he sees a rainbow of everlasting beauty and radiance and feels a love swelling in his chest that he really wishes he could put into words.</p><p>“What a sap,” Wooyoung jokes, but he’s smiling nonetheless.</p><p>They smile together. They laugh together.</p><p>As long as they’re together, nothing else really seems to matter.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>88 days before – Jongho</strong>
</p><p>Jongho wakes up at three in the morning to the sound of sniffling.</p><p>For a split second, he panics, because who the hell is crying at this time? But then he realizes that there’s really only one person who would be crying in his room, and that person would be on the bunk below him.</p><p>“Hyung,” Jongho murmurs sleepily. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”</p><p>“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.” Mingi’s voice is deeper, raspier than usual, trembling with emotions that he rarely ever shows.</p><p>Which is why Jongho isn’t going to let this go.</p><p>Just a few hours prior, Mingi had been eating and drinking and laughing with the rest of them. Why the hell is he crying now?</p><p>“No, hyung. Tell me what’s wrong,” Jongho says.</p><p>“It’s <em>fine</em>, Jongho-yah,” Mingi affirms. “Just… please, go back to sleep. I’ll be fine.”</p><p>Jongho bites his lip and closes his eyes. He doesn’t do what Mingi told him to do; rather, he waits for Mingi to fall asleep before he finally dozes off, wondering just what could have caused Mingi to break like that.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>83 days before – Yeosang</strong>
</p><p>Yeosang normally doesn’t feel guilty, but he can’t help but feel a little guilty doing this.</p><p>He swears he’s not doing this because Hongjoong is the leader and his word is absolute. Far from that. Yeosang doesn’t really answer to anybody except for the higher ups and will only do what he feels is best.</p><p>Which is why he doesn’t really know why he’s doing this.</p><p>“Don’t tell Seonghwa,” Hongjoong had told him.</p><p>Yeosang keeps his mouth shut because maybe, secretly, he <em>wants </em>this. Hongjoong is generous, <em>too </em>generous sometimes, to the point where he’s selfish. So when Hongjoong tells Yeosang to stay in the studio with him just to give Seonghwa an excuse for not coming home, Yeosang obeys. He watches Hongjoong’s cursor fly around the monitor, watches as the leader arranges his beats, all while he lounges on the sofa and plays games on his phone.</p><p>Sometimes, Hongjoong will have him record something. Hongjoong will tell him that his voice is liquid gold, that he really does deserve more time on the tracks and that he would give him lines if it were in his power to do so. When Yeosang is here in Hongjoong’s studio, when he watches Hongjoong compose all these songs that will probably never be heard by the public, he feels like he matters.</p><p>He knows he does. He knows that people, his members, love him and his voice. He’s not selfish for staying behind and giving Hongjoong an excuse for not going home. The thing is, he <em>knows </em>how upset Seonghwa gets when he wakes up and Hongjoong isn’t there, which is more often than <em>any </em>of them would like.</p><p>So maybe he’s a bit selfish in that aspect.</p><p>He’s twiddling his thumbs at two-thirty in the morning, one vocal guide of one verse of one song completed, when Hongjoong finally tells him to go home.</p><p>And he does, because Seonghwa is asleep and won’t suspect a thing. Sure, Hongjoong won’t be there when Seonghwa wakes up, but at least Yeosang is some form of a scapegoat. At least Hongjoong can give the excuse of, “Sorry, Yeosang and I were practicing really late and I lost track of time and I fell asleep there.” It’s a shitty excuse in Yeosang’s opinion, but at least he has someone besides himself to fall back on.</p><p>What he doesn’t count on is Wooyoung being awake when he gets back.</p><p>“Why so late?” his roommate asks.</p><p>“I was helping Hongjoong-hyung.”</p><p>“With?”</p><p>“Why do you ask?”</p><p>Wooyoung narrows his eyes at him. “Did you at least tell him to come back? You know how upset Seonghwa-hyung gets.”</p><p>“You know that I could tell him to come back every single night and he won’t listen to a word I say,” Yeosang mumbles, gathering his clothes for a shower.</p><p>“Still,” Wooyoung says with a reprimanding glare.</p><p>“What am I supposed to do? I was helping him, and I—”</p><p>“It’s not about <em>you</em>, Yeo,” Wooyoung interjects. “It’s about Hongjoong-hyung. He needs to come home. He needs to sleep a full night. And you staying there until almost three in the morning isn’t exactly helping either of you.”</p><p><em>Except it is</em>, Yeosang wants to say. But of course Wooyoung will refute that because he loves his voice. Because Wooyoung doesn’t see that he <em>wants </em>to help Hongjoong because Hongjoong is helping him. He knows, all of them know, that Hongjoong needs sleep.</p><p>But as previously stated, maybe Yeosang is a bit selfish in that aspect.</p><p>As he washes the day’s layer of sweat from his body, he lets the tears fall just like the stream of water above him.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>79 days before – Wooyoung</strong>
</p><p>Spirits are high once more with Seonghwa’s birthday staring them all in the face, but it only seems to be that way with everyone except Seonghwa and Yeosang. Even Hongjoong is all smiley about the upcoming occasion, which Wooyoung finds extremely odd. Why is Hongjoong seemingly excited when Seonghwa, the actual birthday boy, is seemingly not?</p><p>Wooyoung wonders if it has something to do with that one night.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Seonghwa tells him, and he knows that it has to do with Hongjoong. Wooyoung argues that the leader is happy, so he should be too, to which the oldest just shrugs.</p><p>“I can be happy and not show it.”</p><p>In other words, <em>I’m actually not that thrilled because Hongjoong still isn’t coming home, and even though he’ll celebrate my birthday with us, nothing will change.</em></p><p>Wooyoung is in the studio with Hongjoong one evening when he decides to bring it up.</p><p>“You said you’d do anything for us,” Wooyoung tells him. He can already see Hongjoong’s face tense, the way his jaw clenches and his eyes turn sour. “So come home. Get some sleep. Do that for us.”</p><p>“You don’t understand, Wooyoung-ah,” Hongjoong replies. “I’m doing <em>this </em>for you guys too. I’m working late so we can have music to put out. So all of you can get the recognition you deserve.”</p><p>“Hyung, we’re <em>fine</em>,” Wooyoung assures, because really, they’re fine. They’re doing what they need to do and they’re happy with what they have. It makes him wonder if Hongjoong is too. “And I want to say the same for you, even though your stubborn ass would definitely say you’re fine. But <em>please</em>, hyung, just come home. Seonghwa-hyung misses you like crazy.”</p><p>Hongjoong’s face tenses even more, nose twitching, jaw clenched.</p><p>“Let’s just keep working, okay?”</p><p>Wooyoung should’ve expected this. There’s no getting through to the hardheaded leader. So he simply slips the headphones over his ears again and runs through vocal guide that Hongjoong prepared for him.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>78 days before – Seonghwa</strong>
</p><p>Seonghwa feels like he <em>should </em>be happier on his special day, but it doesn’t feel all that special. Sure, the members take him out to dinner, but there’s an empty seat.</p><p>All of them know. The synergy between them makes it impossible for them <em>not </em>to know. They know that Seonghwa is upset because Hongjoong isn’t there, but they opt for distraction. They’re loud and boisterous as they usually are, talking about their days and how excited they are for the upcoming tour. Seonghwa tries to indulge in it too, figuring that maybe he should succumb to the distractions, and it sort of works.</p><p>When they get home, they turn in for the night like they always do. Seonghwa takes a long ass shower like he normally does.</p><p>When he comes out, Hongjoong is sitting on his bunk with his Minion plushie placed between his crossed legs. “I’m sorry,” he says instantly.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Seonghwa tells him.</p><p>But it’s not, not really.</p><p>Seonghwa can’t find it in him to be angry at the leader. Not to mention scolding him has proven to be pretty useless since Hongjoong never listens. Instead, he’s just sad, disappointed, that Hongjoong wasn’t there to be part of the celebration.</p><p><em>At least he’s here now</em>, Seonghwa tells himself.</p><p>“Come on,” Hongjoong says, motioning his head towards him. “Birthday cuddles. It’s the least I can do.”</p><p>With a fond smile, Seonghwa caves. When the light turns off, he settles into bed with Hongjoong, head in between his neck and shoulder with one arm resting on his chest.</p><p>“Happy birthday,” Hongjoong whispers. “And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there. I really am.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Seonghwa says again, pressing a kiss to his cheek.</p><p>It’s still not entirely fine, but Hongjoong letting him in, Hongjoong coming home and letting him cuddle with him, is really all he could’ve asked for on his special day.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>69 days before – Jongho</strong>
</p><p>Maybe it’s because he’s the youngest, but Jongho feels like he’s the most attentive when it comes to noticing the dynamics in the group. He feels like it should be Hongjoong, with him being the leader and all, but he’s also pretty sure that Hongjoong is too immersed in his work to notice how his absence affects the group.</p><p>On the plane, Jongho notices Hongjoong’s laptop screen glaring brightly in his face, illuminating his work and the proof that Hongjoong really should get some sleep.</p><p>The rest of the members are in various stages of sleep, with Yunho’s head resting on his shoulder, San’s head lulled against Mingi’s shoulder, Mingi’s head resting against the window, Wooyoung and Yeosang’s heads resting against each other’s, and Seonghwa sleeping peacefully on his neck pillow.</p><p>Meanwhile, Hongjoong has his eyes open, staring at the screen as his cursor moves furiously.</p><p><em>Hyung, please, you need to rest, </em>Jongho wants to say. He checks the time; the flight isn’t even half over yet. He just hopes Hongjoong sleeps for at least a fraction of that time, although the entirety of it would be ideal.</p><p>This must be their sixth or seventh time traveling to the States. Los Angeles, their ‘second home.’ Each week a different city. Dallas, Chicago, Atlanta, New York City, all the places they’ve been to before. The places they went to during their first tour ever. After that, Europe again, same places they’ve been to before.</p><p>The difference is that now, they’re playing full venues, filled with tens of thousands of people instead of just one thousand. Jongho hopes that one day they’ll be able to venture even further, conquer the globe, perform in <em>every </em>continent. Hell, maybe in front of the penguins in Antarctica!</p><p>He smiles dreamily as his eyes slip shut again, the sounds of their fans cheering them on echoing in his eardrums.</p><p>When he wakes up to the sun peeking through the tiny airplane windows, Hongjoong is resting against one, eyes blissfully shut and mouth parted open slightly, and Jongho smiles again.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>65 days before – San</strong>
</p><p>After the first concert of the U.S. leg of their tour, San is watching an anime on his phone when Wooyoung barges in and throws himself onto the bed. San, completely unperturbed, keeps on watching his anime intently.</p><p>“Sannie,” Wooyoung drawls, climbing on top of his legs and sliding underneath his arms, effectively blocking the phone screen with his head. “Come on, I wanna play while Jongho and Mingi are live.”</p><p>San scoffs, finally locking his phone and setting it down beside him. Wooyoung slides up further and shoves his face into his neck, nuzzling his nose into it. “Someone’s eager.”</p><p>“Hotel beds are so much bigger and creak less,” Wooyoung says, smirking against his skin. “I’ve been waiting for this for a while now.”</p><p>“Of course you have,” San teases, his fingers slipping into the strands of his hair as he peppers kisses onto his neck, down to his collarbone.</p><p>So they ‘play’ for a while, which means that San’s head disappears between Wooyoung’s legs and his tongue curls around his cock and flattens against his hole until Wooyoung is a whining mess.</p><p>On the flip side, Wooyoung dips down and deepthroats him with ease, and the finale consists of them grinding against each other, cocks slick with each other’s saliva, until both of their stomachs are painted in come and they’re panting into each other’s mouths.</p><p>It’s far from an unfamiliar situation, but it’s easier in a hotel room because the walls are thicker and the beds are bigger.</p><p>When Mingi returns to the room, they’re still shirtless, Wooyoung’s head on San’s chest as they watch the anime together, and the rapper simply rolls his eyes and makes a hasty beeline for the shower.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>59 days before – Mingi</strong>
</p><p>Mingi can’t help but feel a little pang in his chest whenever San and Wooyoung disappear together. He has no idea what goes on besides a whole lot of kissing and <em>maybe </em>some dick action. Whatever the case, he doesn’t really care what they get up to, but the fact that they’re so <em>open </em>about it makes Mingi’s chest twist.</p><p>He doesn’t know if there’s even actual feelings involved with those two. He doesn’t know if it’s him lusting after Yunho or wishing he had something like San and Wooyoung, but he finds himself wishing that he were <em>that </em>close with Yunho.</p><p>It’s so weird to think about sometimes, because even though he and Yunho have been best friends for much longer, Mingi hasn’t even gone past that stupid birthday peck. But then again, it’s San and Wooyoung, two different people with different personalities. Maybe they just clicked so much more easily. Maybe they’re actually good at communicating their wants and needs and feelings. Maybe they’re braver and bolder than he is no matter how much he tries to convince himself that he’s the bravest and boldest of them all.</p><p>He has to remind himself that whatever they have going on between them is a completely different relationship with different dynamics. That maybe whatever feelings between them, be it romantic or sexual or <em>whatever</em>, are mutual.</p><p>Mingi will forever be left wondering if his feelings will ever be reciprocated because he’d be damned if he opened his mouth and let Yunho how he feels. <em>There’s no time</em>, he repeats to himself. <em>No time for feelings, no point in feeling these things. He probably doesn’t even like you in that way. Keep your mouth shut.</em></p><p>If he were in San or Wooyoung’s position, he’d want to be left alone with Yunho too, so that’s why he lets San sexile him. He’ll retreat to Wooyoung and Jongho’s room, where Jongho just shoots him a look that says, <em>“They’re boning again, aren’t they?”</em> to which Mingi just verbally replies, “Yeah.”</p><p>He and Jongho don’t cuddle like he and Yunho do, but the youngest gives him the most sympathetic looks instead, like he <em>knows </em>something.</p><p>And honestly, at this point, Mingi wouldn’t be surprised if he did.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>59 days before – Yeosang</strong>
</p><p>Yeosang <em>would </em>barge in on San and Wooyoung’s fun time, but he’s a good friend. He knows not to interrupt a friend when they’re getting some action in.</p><p>Nevertheless, it’s still hard to hear his best friend getting laid in the room over. One day, San and Wooyoung have to realize that the walls are not as thick as they think they are.</p><p>It would be so easy to just pound on the door or call him incessantly, but as previously stated, Yeosang is a good friend. They’re easy to ignore… most of the time. Yunho remains unbothered on the bed next to his, earbuds plugged in, probably watching a drama or something. Yeosang could do the same, really, but it’s as if their phantom moans ring in his brain rather than his ears, something he can’t escape from.</p><p>He shifts uncomfortably and presses his earbuds further into his ears.</p><p>“Hey.” Yunho’s voice breaks past the music. “You okay?”</p><p>“Dandy,” Yeosang answers.</p><p>“No you’re not.”</p><p>Yeosang chuckles humorlessly and takes his headphones out, noticing that the faint moans of San and Wooyoung have seemed to calm down. “What’s wrong?” Yunho asks him.</p><p>“I’m sure you can figure it out.”</p><p>Yunho sighs and gets up to crawl onto Yeosang’s bed. “You really should just talk to them,” he says, putting his arm around his shrunken shoulders.</p><p>“It’s not that easy,” Yeosang says. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Stop fucking San because it’s upsetting me?’ It’s not like that, I just…” He sighs, frustrated, and lets his head fall.</p><p>“You’re jealous,” Yunho says.</p><p>“No shit.”</p><p>Because really, as much as Yeosang tries to dismiss it as anything <em>but </em>jealousy, it always loops back to that cursed word. He shouldn’t be jealous; he should be happy for Wooyoung. He should be happy that Wooyoung has found someone he’s so comfortable with, someone that he can share the most intimate moments with. Yeosang couldn’t give two shits about whatever sexcapades they participate in, but it’s always <em>Where’s San? Does anyone know where San went? Have you guys seen San? </em>And Yeosang can’t help but wonder if Wooyoung asks those same things with his name instead.</p><p>“Like I said, you should talk to him,” Yunho says with a shrug. “I know this isn’t the first time it’s happened.”</p><p>“It’s kind of an ongoing thing. You know that.” Yeosang lets his head fall onto Yunho’s shoulder. “I can’t control what Wooyoung does or who he wants to hang out with. It’s <em>me</em>, you know? <em>I’m </em>the one feeling this way. It’s not his fault.”</p><p>“It’s nobody’s fault, Yeo,” Yunho says. “Emotions are emotions. You feel them or you don’t. It’s not your fault nor Wooyoung’s, but if you want to get things off your chest, maybe you should let him know how you feel.”</p><p>The thing is, Yeosang <em>has </em>let Wooyoung know how he feels before, but it doesn’t change anything. Wooyoung still loves spending time with San, and how shitty of a friend would Yeosang be if he tried to get in between them? He wants Wooyoung to be happy, and if Wooyoung is happy with San, then so be it.</p><p>He’s just grateful that Wooyoung doesn’t <em>completely </em>snub him. After all, Wooyoung came to the company because of him. What a waste it would be, if Wooyoung several years of friendship away just like <em>that.</em></p><p>So it must be him. <em>He </em>needs to stop feeling this way, let Wooyoung does what he wants.</p><p>Yeosang knows that Yunho is doing his best to help. He knows that he <em>should </em>talk to Wooyoung, but it all seems to fruitless in the end. Wooyoung would apologize and start spending more time with him, only to have it last for a certain amount of time before he starts clinging to San again. And Yeosang would let him because he likes to see Wooyoung happy and smiling, even at the cost of his own.</p><p>For now, he lets Yunho be his source of comfort, because as much as he wishes Wooyoung would spend more time with him, he’s glad that there’s at least one member with open arms to welcome him in when he feels unwanted.</p><p>He knows very well that he isn’t really unwanted, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling that way sometimes.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>53 days before – Hongjoong</strong>
</p><p>Seonghwa takes advantage of the hotel bed’s size and sleeps next to Hongjoong every night. Hongjoong lets him because it’s the least he could do after being absent for so long. Plus, he’s well aware of how Seonghwa not-so-jokingly complains about him not being interested in him, so in a way, letting Seonghwa sleep next to him at night is a way of proving him wrong.</p><p>It’s definitely gotten better over the years. Thinking back to when all of them were in that awkward phase of knowing but not really <em>knowing </em>each other. Eventually, they all realized that <em>this </em>was their reality now, that all they really have is <em>each other</em>. At one point, all of them put their prides aside because their future, though mostly unknown, was guaranteed to consist of each other in one way or another. Hongjoong opened up bit by bit, let Seonghwa in, let Seonghwa hug him and praise him, but also let Seonghwa scold him for not taking care of himself properly.</p><p>He reminds himself that Seonghwa does it because he cares. All of them do; they just have different ways of showing it.</p><p>“Thank you,” Seonghwa says to him, clinging onto him like a koala.</p><p>“For what?” Hongjoong asks. He smiles a little against the crown of Seonghwa’s head, which smells like flowers and fresh laundry.</p><p>“This. Everything.” Seonghwa sighs, shuffling up to stick his face into Hongjoong’s neck. “I know you work hard for us, that you sacrifice a lot for us. I know that you’re tired and you say you’re okay and while I don’t know how honest you’re being, I trust you. I trust you wholeheartedly.”</p><p>Hongjoong exhales shakily, a stutter in his breath that Seonghwa seems to notice as the oldest clings onto his shirt collar. “You’re doing amazing, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa whispers. “You’ve carried us so far, for so long, and for that, I am eternally grateful.”</p><p>“Sap,” Hongjoong jokes, and even though Seonghwa laughs with him, his heart twists and turns just as it did when Seonghwa held his hand during their first concert back home and sang the words ‘thank you.’ He closes his eyes, the fond memory of the blue lights and the sheen on Seonghwa’s hair bright in his blacked out vision.</p><p>“I’m okay,” he continues, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. “I’m tired, yes, but I’m okay.”</p><p>“I just want you to come home,” Seonghwa murmurs, “but I know you work hard for us. So… whatever you do, just… please, Hongjoong-ah, take care of yourself.”</p><p>While Hongjoong doesn’t entirely know what Seonghwa means, he nods. He’s taking care of himself; he doesn’t understand why the members keep telling him to do so. He’s <em>fine. </em>Does he get the optimal amount of sleep? Absolutely not. But he’s fine. He’s happy and healthy even if his body may be sluggish at times.</p><p>But for Seonghwa’s (and the others’) sake, he nods a silent agreement and ignores the guilt bubbling in his chest knowing that he might not mean it.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>45 days before – Wooyoung</strong>
</p><p>Something is off, and Wooyoung doesn’t like it. The past week had been one of promotions and features and interviews, and while they all definitely put on an entertaining show for their fans on YouTube, Wooyoung can’t ignore the heavy <em>something </em>that hangs above them while they’re all sleeping in the van. He’s glad Hongjoong is sleeping, but Wooyoung has noticed that their time abroad is when Hongjoong gets the most sleep because he’s away from the temptation of his precious studio.</p><p>Hongjoong aside, however, everyone else seems… off.</p><p>Wooyoung observes them all. Hongjoong, Yunho, Seonghwa, and Jongho are asleep. Everyone else has their earbuds in. He notices Mingi’s apprehensive eyes flitting between Yunho and the window he’s up against, San’s nervous tapping against his knee, and Yeosang’s face locked in what seems to be a troubled frown.</p><p>Did something happen that he isn’t aware of?</p><p>After the concert, Wooyoung stays in his room with Jongho while San and Mingi do a live. While his fun with San is great and all, a break from San’s devilish tongue is actually quite a relief. Instead, he watches the live for the fun of it while eating mediocre room service, Jongho right beside him.</p><p>“Hyung,” Jongho says, “do you know what’s going on with Mingi-hyung?”</p><p>“Mingi?” Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, thinking back to Mingi in the van. “I mean, I noticed he’s been skittish lately, but I don’t know what’s going on.”</p><p>Jongho lets out a deep, troubled breath and says, “I think something happened between him and Yunho-hyung.”</p><p>“Really?” Wooyoung frowns, remembering that yes, Mingi had seemed pretty weird around Yunho, but he paid no mind to it. After all, they’ve been friends for so long. On camera, they’re perfectly normal. That, and the only real discomfort Wooyoung sees in their friendship is on Mingi’s part.</p><p>“I don’t know if they got into an argument or what,” Jongho says, “but a while back, after Yunho’s birthday, Mingi was crying.”</p><p>Mingi? Crying? Almost unheard of, Wooyoung thinks. “He wouldn’t tell me why, so I just let it go, but it’s been bugging me since. I just don’t know how to approach it,” Jongho adds.</p><p>“The only person he’d confide in <em>is </em>Yunho. Maybe San, if he’s vulnerable enough,” Wooyoung says. “I could bring it up to them, see if I can get any answers.”</p><p>Jongho sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “We’re a good team,” he says, “but we’re far from perfect.”</p><p>Wooyoung nods, thinking that they really should just <em>talk. </em>Talk about things that aren’t the tour or how their weeks went or their dance moves are. Actually, they should talk about <em>how their weeks went </em>in ways that aren’t just <em>I ate so and so on Wednesday and it was really good </em>or <em>I was happy on Tuesday because I mastered this one part I was having trouble with.</em></p><p>While those things are important, maybe they should be talking about things like <em>Why does it seem like we don’t talk at all? Why does it seem like we just shove all of our emotions under a rug?</em></p><p>In a way, Wooyoung feels like he knows the answer. It’s just <em>easier</em>, more convenient that way. If the problems are left unsaid, then they don’t have to face them. With such a hectic tour and schedules constantly on their plate, how can they possible have time to sit down and talk about such convoluted things, like <em>emotions</em>?</p><p>He feels like a bit of a hypocrite, though. He’s doing just what everyone else is doing. He <em>knows </em>that there is tension, that there are definitely things they just need to talk about, but he’s doing nothing to mitigate them.</p><p>Sleep doesn’t come easily to him that night. He’s too frazzled thinking about everyone.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>40 days before – Yunho</strong>
</p><p>They’re in Paris once again, the city of love and romance, apparently. Famous honeymoon tourist spot, a place where couples like to take pictures to show how in love they are. Also the place where they all took photos of themselves in front of the Eiffel Tower at night and posted them not knowing it’s illegal, but the members love to make fun of <em>him </em>specifically.</p><p>Yunho resists the urge to take pictures this time. Instead, he just stares up at the magnificent structure in all of its romantic, dazzling beauty.</p><p>“Hey.” Mingi’s deep voice sounds from behind him.</p><p>“Oh, hey.” Yunho gives him a smile and turns back up to look at the tower.</p><p>“Not taking pictures this year, I see.”</p><p>“Oh, fuck off.” Yunho chuckles, smacking his arm. He glances around, catching no sight of the other members. “Where is everyone?”</p><p>“Getting food, probably,” Mingi says with a shrug. “Staff is here and there, but everyone’s just off doing their own thing.”</p><p>“And you came to see me?” Yunho teases.</p><p>Mingi’s eyes widen, an obvious fluster in his panicked expression. “W-what, a guy can’t see his best friend and approach him?”</p><p>Yunho chuckles. “I’m just teasing you.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Yunho wears his smile proudly as his eyes land on the tower again. Its light shine so brightly yet gently, just enough to where he can look at it but not be blinded. He doesn’t know what it is about this moment that has his chest hurting more than usual, but it hurts in a good way.</p><p>He looks over at Mingi, whose eyes are now fixed on the tower, and his smile grows.</p><p>
  <em>“Hey, did you have a fight with Mingi at all?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What? No. Why do you ask?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jongho’s worried, said Mingi’s been upset and skittish lately and it might have something to do with you. Figured I’d ask.”</em>
</p><p>Yunho sighs and slings an arm around his best friend. “It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it?” he asks.</p><p>“Yeah,” Mingi says, turning his head slightly so his eyes land on Yunho. “It is.”</p><p>Yunho doesn’t stop smiling, even as their gazes glue themselves back onto the tower. It’s a beautiful sight, indeed.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>37 days before – Seonghwa</strong>
</p><p>Seonghwa is surprised, to say the least, when San asks him to see him in his room.</p><p>“Where’s Mingi?” Seonghwa asks upon entrance.</p><p>“Hanging out with Yunho in his room,” San answers.</p><p>Seonghwa nods and sits on the edge of Mingi’s bed. “So, why’d you ask me to come here?”</p><p>“How are things with Hongjoong-hyung?” San asks, a question that Seonghwa was certainly not prepared for. Granted, he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.</p><p>“Um… fine,” Seonghwa answers, confused. “Is this what you want to talk about?”</p><p>San pauses, swallowing nervously. He’s sitting on his hands, head ducked in embarrassment, it seems. “I just… want to talk. About stuff.”</p><p>Seonghwa hums in acknowledgement. Of course. Not that Mingi is a terrible listener, but he’s not exactly the best at expressing condolences or giving advice that isn’t <em>just perk up! Be happy! </em>But Seonghwa is surprised San didn’t call Wooyoung, considering the two are like peas in a pod and Wooyoung is just as empathic.</p><p>“What stuff do you want to talk about?” Seonghwa asks.</p><p>“Things have been so weird lately,” San says lowly, almost forebodingly. It makes Seonghwa shudder. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but… it’s like, everyone has their own shit going on and I think it’s starting to affect us in really subtle ways.”</p><p>If Seonghwa is being completely honest, he hasn’t noticed much. He’s been focused on the tour, the practice, the schedule, <em>Hongjoong</em>, and has absolutely no idea what San is talking about. But he can’t ignore San like this.</p><p>San is a strong person in every single way; Seonghwa knows this to be true. Contradictory to that, he is also the most sensitive and open, and will let someone know when something is troubling him. It doesn’t happen often because San is so resilient and sturdy, but when it does happen, it’s concerning.</p><p>And god, Seonghwa hates seeing him cry. He hates seeing anybody cry. From the looks of it, it’s a possibility with how unsettled San seems.</p><p>“What’s going on, Sannie?” Seonghwa asks, not entirely sure of the answer.</p><p>“It’s everyone,” San murmurs. “Mingi’s been weirdly anxious, Yeosang’s been distant, Jongho’s conflicted. Even Wooyoung seems off. I haven’t noticed much change in Yunho, but… it’s like, we’re all tiptoeing around things and I don’t… I don’t know what’s going on and I just want things to be normal again.” With each word, San’s voice trembles even more.</p><p>“Do you know <em>what </em>everyone’s tiptoeing around?”</p><p>“No, I don’t. I really don’t.” San groans, hands buried in his hair. “I want to say something, but I’m afraid it’ll be the wrong thing, and getting involved in other members’ business just feels wrong when it doesn’t involve me. But… fuck, I don’t know, hyung. I just want everyone to stop being so weird around each other.”</p><p>Seonghwa sighs and stands up, sitting down next to San. “I’ll be honest and say I haven’t noticed the same things you’re noticing. But you know that we’re not exactly the best communicators. We’re not perfect, we don’t always talk about how we feel. Not all of us are like you.” San chuckles at that. “I get that you don’t want to get involved, but who else is going to say something?”</p><p>“Wish it would be Hongjoong-hyung, he’s the leader after all,” San grumbles half-jokingly.</p><p>“He’s too caught up in his own head.” Seonghwa sighs and pats San’s back, rubbing gentle circles into it. “I can guarantee you he’s clueless. So I’ll say this again, if you’re the only one who isn’t clueless, maybe you’re the only one who can say something to get everyone back on track.”</p><p>It’s an enormous amount of pressure to put on someone. Seonghwa knows. But he means it, he believes in San because San is strong. San is empathetic and generous and kind. If there’s anyone who can mediate the situations between the other members, it’s San.</p><p>As the oldest, however, Seonghwa can’t help but feel like he isn’t doing enough.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>33 days before – Yeosang</strong>
</p><p>In Yeosang’s mind, things are starting to get out of hand. Maybe he’s blowing everything out of proportion. Maybe he’s overthinking things; he has a tendency to do that when things are stressful. With the tour, being away from home, being away from <em>Wooyoung</em>, it’s safe to say that Yeosang is stressed the fuck out.</p><p>In their hotel room in London, Yeosang breaks down, and Yunho is the one to see.</p><p>Yeosang feels so <em>small</em>, especially in Yunho’s arms, that goddamn giant. He sobs silently, because he doesn’t like to cry. He’s pretty sure they’re all silent criers, and nobody <em>likes </em>to cry. Out of all of them, however, he’s fairly certain Yunho is the one who cries the most. He just doesn’t let anybody see.</p><p>It must be hard, having to constantly smile like that.</p><p>“Tell me what’s wrong, Yeosang-ah,” Yunho tells him in the most firm yet comforting voice. “Is it Wooyoung again? Did he say or do something?”</p><p>“It’s <em>everything</em>,” Yeosang sobs into Yunho’s chest, curling in on himself. “It’s Wooyoung, it’s San, it’s the hyungs, and… even Mingi and Jongho. It’s <em>everyone</em>.”</p><p>“What about everyone? What’s <em>wrong</em>?” Yunho asks.</p><p>“Everything is just… off. I don’t know. It’s so weird, like, even San and Wooyoung have gotten weird around each other. Everyone’s worried about Hongjoong-hyung, that’s nothing new. Seonghwa-hyung is stressed out. Mingi’s anxious for some reason, and I think Jongho is just caught in the middle of everything and doesn’t know what to do.” Yeosang laughs pitifully. “That makes two of us, I guess. I don’t know what to do.”</p><p>Yunho lets out a deep, seemingly frustrated breath. “I told you this before, and I’ll say it again. You <em>need </em>to talk to Wooyoung. I know that whatever you’re feeling right now started with him, so you should talk to him first. Worry about the others after.”</p><p>It had been a while ago, when Yeosang spilled his worries to Yunho. The older is right; he <em>did </em>say to talk to Wooyoung, and yet, Yeosang couldn’t find it in him to. He would blame it on the ‘lack of time,’ but the truth of the matter is that there’s been <em>plenty </em>of time for him to talk to Wooyoung.</p><p>Plenty of time, but also plenty of fear.</p><p>“As for everyone else…” Yunho sighs. “That’s for <em>me </em>to handle.”</p><p>Yeosang pulls away, frowning. “Why you?”</p><p>“Wooyoung and Jongho are under the impression that something happened between me and Mingi. I don’t know what they mean, but nothing happened between us.”</p><p>“Even I noticed that,” Yeosang pitches. “He’s been really weird lately.”</p><p>Yunho scoffs in disbelief. “Am I seriously the only person who hasn’t noticed a change in him?”</p><p>Yeosang shrugs. “You’ve been friends with him the longest. I’m surprised you haven’t.”</p><p>“Maybe that makes me a shitty friend.” Yunho sighs, fiddling with the fabric of Yeosang’s t-shirt.</p><p>“You’re not a shitty friend,” Yeosang says. “None of us are. We just suck at communicating.”</p><p>“Here. I’ll talk to Mingi, but in turn, you have to talk to Wooyoung. Sound like a deal?”</p><p>Yeosang feels like making a deal about something that should be done <em>without </em>a deal involved is pretty shitty, not to mention a bit insensitive, but maybe it’ll be the push he needs.</p><p>So he shakes Yunho’s massive hand on it even though he’s not exactly sure of how true to his word he’ll be.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>30 days before – Mingi</strong>
</p><p>San is in the shower when Yunho comes knocking on their door.</p><p>“Oh, hey,” Mingi greets him, completely flustered.</p><p>“Hey. Mind if we talk?” The question immediately sends Mingi into a spiral, but he simply motions for Yunho to enter.</p><p>Yunho takes a seat at the edge of his bed. “How have you been? I feel like it’s been a while since we’ve actually sat down and talked, you know?”</p><p>“Y-yeah,” Mingi says, sitting on San’s bed, across from him instead of next to him. He already wants to punch himself in the face. “I’ve been okay.”</p><p>“Everyone’s noticing that you’ve been a little… on edge lately. They asked me to talk to you about it. You know you can tell me anything, right?”</p><p><em>Except I can’t</em>, Mingi thinks.</p><p>“I really don’t mean to be all weird,” Mingi mumbles, shoving down the feelings that threaten to resurface again.</p><p>“Apparently Wooyoung and Jongho think it has something to do with me. Are you upset with me about something? I mean, I personally haven’t noticed you acting any different, but they seem pretty set on it…”</p><p>“N-no!” Mingi’s voice squeaks up an octave. He clears his throat, cursing at himself internally. “It’s nothing, really. I just… y’know, with the tour and all that. I guess I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately.”</p><p>Yunho frowns at him. Of course. Because they’ve been friends for so long, <em>of course </em>Yunho is able to tell when he’s lying, but then again, it doesn’t take so many years of friendship to notice, especially if Wooyoung and Jongho were so quick to know something.</p><p>“That’s really unlike you, though,” Yunho says. “You’re always excited when we go on tour. You’re never really… nervous. Come on, you know that you can talk to me about anything. I mean, you don’t <em>have </em>to, but—”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Mingi interjects, wincing. “I really can’t tell you. It’s fine, I’m fine, so don’t worry that much, okay? It’s just something I’m going through on my own. If I want to tell you, I’ll tell you.”</p><p>Yunho’s mouth flounders as he tries to find words, ultimately coming up with none. He ducks his head and nods instead. “Well, alright. But… just know that if you ever <em>do </em>want to talk, I’m here for you, okay?”</p><p>Mingi nods wordlessly and lets Yunho walk out without interruption. When his best friend is out of the room, he grabs a pillow, squishes it against his face, and screams.</p><p>“Uh, Mingi-yah?” San’s voice is small from the doorway to the bathroom. “You okay?”</p><p>When Mingi removes the pillow from his face, tears greet San shamelessly, and the older’s face instantly falls. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Even in just a towel, San is quick to meet Mingi by his side.</p><p>“It’s so stupid, <em>I’m </em>so stupid,” Mingi says. Tears are spilling over, but there’s no way he’d let himself sound like he’s crying. He swallows difficultly, biting down to steady his words. “I don’t fucking know anymore, San. I can’t tell him, can’t tell you, can’t tell <em>anybody</em>.”</p><p>“Can’t tell anybody what?” San asks.</p><p>“I <em>can’t tell you</em>,” Mingi reiterates, allowing his head to crash into San’s chest. San’s arms awkwardly come up to wrap him in a damp hug. “I can’t tell anybody and it <em>sucks</em>.”</p><p>“Whatever it is, Mingi-yah, we’re not going to hate your for it.”</p><p>Yes, Mingi knows that, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t jeopardize the group in some way.</p><p>“I just want… I want it all to go away. I wish I didn’t feel like this.”</p><p>San sighs and lets Mingi’s enormous body quake in his arms. Mingi hates feeling small like this, hates being any sort of teary-eyed, hates being vulnerable where people can see. But he knows San is really the only person who won’t hold anything against him, won’t poke fun at his emotions. So he lets himself cry in San’s arms, silently wishing that it could be Yunho instead.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>27 days before – Jongho</strong>
</p><p>Jongho is so fucking confused.</p><p>He doesn’t know what happened that made everyone so happy-go-lucky all of a sudden, but he figures he can’t really complain. Things seem to have gotten back to normal. In the van, Wooyoung is sharing some funny video with Yeosang while San watches and smiles from the side, Yunho is joking around with Mingi and Mingi seems pretty normal about it. Hongjoong is sleeping (thank god) and Seonghwa is peacefully staring out the window probably listening to Lauv.</p><p>Maybe they all decided to stage an intervention and excluded him for whatever reason. Maybe Yunho and Mingi finally worked out the weirdness between them, maybe San and Wooyoung finally invited Yeosang to their nights in and got <em>that</em> out of their system, and maybe Hongjoong is actually sleeping well at night and Seonghwa is living (mostly) stress-free because of it.</p><p>Seeing them like this makes him wonder… what exactly is <em>normal</em> for them?</p><p>Sure, they have their arguments and disagreements and petty squabbles. Not everything is smooth sailing with them. They have their laughs and smiles but they also have their tears and pain. It’s to be expected of eight people who spend all of their hours around each other. But is ‘normal’ only what makes them smile? Is ‘normal’ only when they get along?</p><p>With things as rocky and uncertain as friendships and relationships, its hard to gauge what’s ‘normal.’ Because ‘normal’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good.’</p><p>So maybe saying things are ‘back to normal’ isn’t the right phrase to use. Jongho’s just glad to see that there’s seemingly less tension, that they’re back to interacting with each other like they aren’t secretly mad or plotting against each other.</p><p>That night in the hotel, when Mingi comes in upon getting kicked out by San, Jongho brings it up.</p><p>“Are things between you and Yunho okay now?”</p><p>Mingi nods with uncertainty. “Yeah,” he answers, equally dubious. “We’re okay.”</p><p><em>I’m not stupid, you know, </em>Jongho wants to say. <em>I might be the youngest, but don’t think that I don’t notice shit between everyone. Don’t think I don’t notice when you’re lying. Yunho isn’t the only one who can tell what you’re feeling.</em></p><p>But Jongho think about Mingi in the van, smiling and laughing with his best friend, <em>normal</em>, and decides to leave it, just like before.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>23 days before – Wooyoung</strong>
</p><p>The day after their concert in Spain, a very… strange announcement is made.</p><p>The staff gathers them in the manager’s room where they’re told that their upcoming shows are being delayed, postponed, <em>whatever. </em>Basically, they’re not happening on the dates that were expected.</p><p>“So… are we going back home?” Hongjoong asks.</p><p>The staff members present look at each other hesitantly.</p><p>“We… don’t know,” one of the managers says. “We don’t know how long the shows are going to be postponed for, so we’re going to be staying here for the time being. We’ll let you know when and if we get you guys tickets back home.”</p><p>“Why are they postponing?” Wooyoung pipes up.</p><p>Another several suspicious glances are shared between the staff members. Finally, one of the stylists sighs.</p><p>“We’re just as clueless as you guys are, honestly,” she says. “We’re asking the venues the same question, but we’re not getting any definitive answers. It’s as if nobody really knows anything. But for now, we’re going to be staying in this hotel while we wait for answers.”</p><p>A weighty silence washes over them for what feels like hours. Everyone must be thinking the same thing, that it’s just so <em>weird </em>how the venues would cancel the shows so suddenly and not give them any answers as to why. There are still five more shows left in their European tour, and <em>all </em>of them were canceled?</p><p>When Wooyoung turns on the news, there’s nothing to note. Besides, he doesn’t know Spanish anyway. But when he checks social media and news outlets he does understand, there’s nothing pointing towards a worldwide outbreak, no immediate wars on the European front. <em>Nothing.</em></p><p>The staff instructs them to stay in the hotel. They <em>were </em>planning on doing some exploring, but it seems as if <em>everything</em>, not just their shows, are being put on hold for some odd reason.</p><p>Wooyoung spends that night in Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s room along with the rest of the members, silently eating some food that the staff had gone out to get, but for once, his appetite is begging him to stop eating because his stomach is too queasy and his nerves are too agitated.</p><p>Hongjoong, the ever-so-strong leader, is the one to break the silence. “It’s going to be fine, guys,” he says with conviction. “It’s probably out of the venues’ control. Maybe it’s an issue with the sponsor. Whatever the case, it’s gonna be fine, and we’re gonna complete the tour.”</p><p>Nobody says anything.</p><p>Wooyoung <em>would </em>say something, but he feels as if the things he wants to say would only exacerbate the stress. He wants to say, <em>It’s weird that there are no answers as to why the shows are being postponed. Something doesn’t feel right.</em></p><p>But Hongjoong would say something alone the lines of, <em>We just have to wait. We’ll get our answers. Don’t worry.</em></p><p>It’s not going to stop any of them from worrying, but it’s a nice thing to hear nonetheless.</p><p>That night, San and Wooyoung visit Yunho and Yeosang’s room together. There’s a mutual connection between the four of them, unspoken words but words they <em>feel</em>, and they all fall onto Yunho’s bed together in a pile of entangled limbs and fear.</p><p>“It’s going to be fine,” San says.</p><p>Same words as Hongjoong, but nowhere near as confident.</p><p>Sleep doesn’t come easily that night, either. Wooyoung wonders if this is how Hongjoong feels.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>22 days before – Seonghwa</strong>
</p><p>The staff told them that they would give them updates.</p><p>After twenty-four hours, there are none.</p><p>It shouldn’t be worrying Seonghwa as much as it is. Things like this happen. Complications arise in the world of showbiz. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal.</p><p>At least the staff lets them go out today. They’ve walked around the city before, but the architecture never ceases to amaze them. With grand, ancient structures that attest to the country’s rich, unfamiliar history, the mini expedition is enough to get their minds off of the current situation for a little while.</p><p>They smile and laugh and chase pigeons and eat good food. It reminds Seonghwa a lot of the time they spent together during their first tour. This time, without having to film any content, they’re free to roam, do mostly whatever they want.</p><p>Everything seems to be <em>normal. </em>The streets are bustling. People are walking, riding bikes, doing things that people would do every day. The sun is shining, though it’s definitely much hotter than a spring day would warrant. Still, it’s a comfortable day of wandering and admiring.</p><p>They even eat out at a restaurant with fine dining and incandescent lighting, vines crawling up arches and one too many glasses of wine, and at one point, the staff actually <em>leaves </em>them and tells them to call whenever they’re done.</p><p>Seonghwa should be worried because that’s not how things are; the staff is supposed to accompany them <em>at all times</em>, but they’re being lenient. <em>Too </em>lenient. But it’s difficult for him to put up a fight, both from the wine and the constant lighthearted bickering at the dinner table, so he simply forgoes his worries and partakes in the chaos.</p><p>When they get back to the hotel, silence overtakes them again. Seonghwa scrolls through every social media platform he has. There’s nothing out of the ordinary.</p><p>“Hey,” Hongjoong says. “What… what do you think is going on?”</p><p>“Probably just some complications with the sponsor of the tour,” Seonghwa answers, shrugging. “Like you said, it’ll be fine.”</p><p>Right. It’ll be fine. The news isn’t saying anything. It’s just the venues, the sponsor, whatever. There’s nothing else warranting the postponement of their shows. It’s fine, it’s going to be fine, they’re going to complete the European leg of their tour and make it back home safely. Eventually.</p><p>“I…” Hongjoong pauses, hesitant. “I’m kind of scared.”</p><p>“Me too.” Seonghwa is quick to admit it.</p><p>Bundled up in fear, the two get into bed together like they’ve been doing for the past month, but Hongjoong is easily shaking in Seonghwa’s arms.</p><p>“I really hope there isn’t something bigger going on,” Hongjoong whispers as Seonghwa is on the cusp of sleep.</p><p>Seonghwa doesn’t respond, but he hears him loud and clear.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>21 days before – San</strong>
</p><p>For some reason, they’re not being let out of the hotel.</p><p>San is antsy to the point where he has some Spanish news channel turned on, glaring at it intensely while spinning a bracelet around his finger at a speed that would probably send it flying like a bullet into Mingi’s face. He understands none of what is being said, but he’s so fucking bored, so confused, so worked up, that he doesn’t give a shit.</p><p>Mingi is sitting cross-legged on his bed, twiddling his fingers. He’s watching the television too, but San is certain the words are going in through one ear and right out the other.</p><p>With each passing image, there are still no answers.</p><p>“This can’t be right,” San mumbles to himself. “Why aren’t they letting us outside? If it were just a problem with the venues, why are they treating this like we’re in danger if we go outside? We went out yesterday, and all of a sudden we can’t today?”</p><p>“I agree that there has to be a reason, but until we know, there’s not much we can do about it.”</p><p>“How about we <em>ask </em>them?”</p><p>“They said that they’ll give us updates when they get them,” Mingi says shakily. He’s just as nervous, San notices. “All we can do is wait.”</p><p>“All we can do is wait,” San repeats to himself, muttering curse words.</p><p>He’s sure that the other members have been just as attentive. Checking social media, tuning into news in a language they don’t understand, staring out the window in hopes of catching glimpse of <em>something </em>wrong because <em>this isn’t right.</em></p><p>It’s just another day of speculation because even though San spends the entire day with his eyes glued to a screen, there are still no answers.</p><p>When Wooyoung comes knocking, they don’t kiss. They cuddle, but that’s it. There’s too much going on (or not going on) that has all of their hairs standing up. Too much fear rattling in their blood. Something <em>isn’t right. </em>They can fuck at a different time.</p><p>“Sannie,” Wooyoung whispers, fingers curled against his chest, “I’m scared that something bad is going on.”</p><p>“It’ll be okay,” San says, reminding himself of Hongjoong’s words. “We’ll be okay. It’ll all get sorted out.”</p><p>“I really hope so.”</p><p>San nods, pressing the play button on their favorite anime, hoping that the sounds of screaming animated characters will drown out the incessant thoughts.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>20 days before – Yunho</strong>
</p><p>The staff doesn’t tell them shit, come to find out, but not because they’re trying to withhold information from them. It’s because they <em>truly </em>don’t know what’s going on. It’s just as they said; they’re just as clueless.</p><p>Another group meeting proven to be useless. There are no updates, nothing that points towards a reason why their shows are being postponed and no official statements from the venues or the sponsor.</p><p>However, there is one thing that they tell the members that strikes fear in Yunho’s body.</p><p>“We tried to get us all tickets back home,” one of their managers says, “but all the airlines have delayed their sales as well, for whatever reason. They’re still allowing flights, but no new tickets can be bought, so...”</p><p>The members share confused, panicked glances. “S-so we can’t go home?” Wooyoung exclaims.</p><p>“Y-yes, that’s right,” the manager admits. “We really don’t know why this is happening. Trust me, we’re all trying to keep up with the news and what’s going on, but it’s as if everyone knows absolutely nothing. We’re all in the dark here.”</p><p>It’s the uncertainty of everything that has every single one of Yunho’s bones clanging with fear. They’re stuck in a country thousands of miles away with no way of going home for who knows how long. Nobody seems to know anything.</p><p>What the fuck is going on?</p><p>The staff promises them once again that they’ll keep them updated, but at this point, it’s as if the updating thing is completely futile. They’re <em>all </em>trying to be updated. They don’t need the staff to update them on the current state of the world, whatever that may be, because Yunho is pretty sure they’d be getting information from the exact same place, being social media.</p><p>There is one conclusion Yunho can draw from all of this: this isn’t just about the venues or the sponsors anymore.</p><p>There’s something much bigger going on.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>19 days before</strong>
</p><p>It’s one in the morning, when Yunho’s phone is only a few centimeters away from his face, when he sees the trending topic on Twitter.</p><p>
  <em>ASTEROID.</em>
</p><p>Frowning, Yunho taps on it and is met with endless tweets in multiple languages about some conspiracy, being that the reason why the world is slowly shutting down certain companies and modes of transportation is because there’s a giant asteroid headed towards Earth, and there isn’t anything that can be done about it.</p><p>Along with the trending topic are the hashtags <em>#apocalypse </em>and <em>#governmentconspiracy.</em></p><p>No matter how far Yunho scrolls, though, he finds no factual evidence, no claims from NASA or any government official, no images, <em>nothing </em>to back up this nerve-wracking topic.</p><p>It’s silly, he thinks. It’s just a conspiracy. Nobody <em>really</em> knows anything.</p><p>But apparently, Spain isn’t the only country shutting down airports and other means of transportation. From what Yunho reads, it’s <em>everywhere. </em>People are screaming their frustrations online, coming up with this whole theory that the world is actually going to end and the governments know but aren’t telling anybody to keep the world from panicking.</p><p>The rest of the world is in the dark just like they are.</p><p>When he finally shuts off his phone, he lies on his back and closes his eyes, feeling some sort of magnitude rising in his chest.</p><p>Before he dozes off to sleep, he imagines a blazing object hurdling towards his face.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>19 days before – Hongjoong</strong>
</p><p>Hongjoong wakes up to Seonghwa violently shaking his shoulders.</p><p>”-ah! Wake up!”</p><p>For a second, Hongjoong blinks and thinks the world is ending from how hysteric Seonghwa sounds. In that second, his eyes widen as he bursts out of sleep, letting Seonghwa pull him up by his arm and drag him to the room over, where the entire present staff and the rest of the members are waiting. In the background, a Spanish news channel is playing.</p><p>Hongjoong might not be able to understand what they’re saying, but the images say it all.</p><p>“Yunho saw a hashtag on Twitter last night,” one of the managers says. “Apparently, people are speculating that an asteroid is going to destroy Earth.”</p><p>“That’s so dumb!” Wooyoung spits. “Why are people trying to cause panic? The end of the world isn’t something to joke about!”</p><p>“That’s the thing, Wooyoung-ah,” Yunho says surprisingly calmly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Nobody knows why places keep shutting things down, so they’re coming up with these absurd theories. Until there’s proof, I don’t buy it.”</p><p>“There’s probably some other, less concerning reason why places are shutting down,” Seonghwa tries, voice calm. “Not because some giant space rock is going to blow up the planet.”</p><p>Hongjoong notices Yeosang wince.</p><p>“Look,” the managers says, “nobody, and I seriously mean <em>nobody</em>, knows what’s going on. We just have to try to stay calm. Stay inside, don’t panic. We’ll continue to provide for you guys as long as we’re all here, and I’m sure every single one of us is staying up to date. Okay?”</p><p>After a somber silence, the group nods.</p><p>They reconvene in the oldest members’ room while the staff goes off to do who knows what. While Yeosang keeps his phone in hand, the others sit in silence and listen to Spanish television.</p><p>“This is ridiculous,” Wooyoung voices again, frustration visible on his face. “Sure, it’s weird that places are shutting down, but not because the world is gonna be destroyed by an asteroid! Why would places even shut down because of that? If the world is gonna end, what’s the point in doing <em>anything</em>?”</p><p>The entire group watches Wooyoung’s mouth quiver, until his entire face falls apart. He collapses straight into Seonghwa. “I… I tried to call my mother this morning,” he says, “and the call wouldn’t go through.”</p><p>Someone gasps.</p><p>“I tried to call everyone in my contacts. <em>Nothing.</em>” He’s sobbing now, shoulders tucked in and shaking. Seonghwa sighs and wraps an arm around him, hand clasping his side. “It’s like… cell service is dead or something.”</p><p>“He’s right,” Yeosang says suddenly. He holds his phone up to reveal the caller screen and Hongjoong’s contact name. “It’s not going through, right, hyung?”</p><p>Hongjoong pulls out his phone, and sure enough, his phone isn’t receiving anything. “I tried texting, too,” Yeosang adds. “Nothing, huh?” Hongjoong shakes his head to confirm.</p><p>“That doesn’t mean the world is going to end,” Yunho says. “It’s all just conspiratorial bullshit. People are bored.”</p><p>“But what if it <em>is </em>true?” Wooyoung says, a stark contrast to his arguments from before. “Why are they shutting down airports? Why is cell service completely dead? Why… why is all of this happening?”</p><p>“Wooyoung, please, calm down,” the oldest says, his grip tightening around Wooyoung’s body. “We’re all still in the dark. Nobody knows anything. We can’t just give in to the panic, okay? Like you said, the end of the world isn’t something to joke about, and if it really is just a bunch of bored people online trying to cause panic, then they’re winning if you react like this.”</p><p>Wooyoung’s sobs are the only sound in the room apart from the Spanish on the television. Hongjoong feels a migraine coming on.</p><p>As the voice of the group, the leader, the one who is supposed to hold down the fort and grip the reins with an iron fist, Hongjoong finds himself at a loss for words when he knows they need it the most.</p><p>But what can he say? They’ve said it all. They’ve heard him say <em>it’s going to be fine. </em>They’ve heard Seonghwa say that <em>we’re still in the dark and nobody knows anything. </em>What else <em>can </em>be said? It’s <em>because </em>they’re in the dark that Hongjoong can’t say much.</p><p>“At least there’s wifi,” Yeosang mumbles. “It’s pretty shit, but it does the job.”</p><p>Wooyoung practically whips out his phone. “Let’s hope my mother still uses Kakaotalk.”</p><p>Without a word, the rest of the members take out their phones and follow in Wooyoung’s footsteps.</p><p>Hongjoong steps into the bathroom, and thankfully, his mother picks up the voice call on the first ring.</p><p>“Hongjoong-ah!” his mother exclaims. “How are you?”</p><p>“I’m okay.” He’s not, really. “The tour’s going okay. We, uh, had some problems with the venues, so we’re not going to be performing the rest of the shows for the time being, but—”</p><p>“Hongjoong-ah.” His mother’s tone suddenly drops. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Hongjoong says, but he can’t help the quiver in his voice.</p><p>“You must have heard, right? About the asteroid?”</p><p>“Eomma, it’s not… there’s no proof. It’s all a conspiracy.”</p><p>“My dear…” His mother lets out a long sigh, then a sniffle. “It’s all over the news here. Where are you right now?”</p><p>“Spain. What do you mean it’s—”</p><p>“The government here has released a statement,” his mother says, running his blood cold. “They’re s… proof… image…—”</p><p>“Eomma, you’re breaking up,” Hongjoong says.</p><p>The call stutters, his mother’s voice spewing out random syllables and incoherent words, but the last thing Hongjoong hears before the call hangs itself up is “I l—you.”</p><p>Baffled, Hongjoong lowers the phone from his ear and stares at the screen, slack-jawed, terror ringing in his bones. There are still three curves signaling wifi connection, but no matter how many panicked texts Hongjoong sends through the app, none of them are delivered.</p><p>“Hyung!” Yunho’s voice calls from the room.</p><p>When Hongjoong reemerges, their eyes are fixed on the television, where the news anchor speaks indistinguishable words, accompanied by unrecognizable text on screen, but the image is there.</p><p>At first glance, it really looks like nothing. A black screen with several tiny dots that are barely visible on screen, but one of them is larger than the others. Very noticeably larger.</p><p>“Knowing Spanish would be <em>really </em>helpful right about now,” San mutters spitefully.</p><p>“That’s it? <em>That’s</em> what everyone’s worked up about?” Wooyoung exclaims.</p><p>“Wooyoung, believe it or not, that… <em>thing</em> is bigger than it looks. Remember, this is outer space. There’s only so much technology we have; we can’t just take a close up of an asteroid.” Seonghwa is trying to sound reasonable, just like always.</p><p>“S-so what, then?” Jongho says. “Is that really what people are so afraid of?”</p><p>Hongjoong looks over to see Yeosang scrolling, chewing on his bottom lip as he does. His brows are creased in concentration.</p><p>“The… the call between me and my mother,” Hongjoong says. “It got cut off.”</p><p>“I wasn’t even able to connect,” San says. “None of my messages were going through.”</p><p>“The wifi still works,” Yeosang comments. “Maybe… maybe the Kakao servers went down or something.”</p><p>“Fucking shit.”</p><p>“I’m reading up on some stuff now,” Yeosang continues. “There are already so many articles about it. That image… it looks really blurry and harmless, but you see how big that dot is in comparison to the rest of them?” He holds up his phone, displaying the same image from the Spanish news report. “Asteroids and other space objects aren’t usually detected this early. This… this asteroid is <em>huge.</em>”</p><p>Hongjoong snatches the phone from Yeosang’s hand and zooms in on the image. The quality of the image itself is already pretty poor, but there’s no mistaking the vast difference in size between the tiny dots and the particularly large dot.</p><p>“B-but they can’t be sure if it’s gonna hit or not!” Wooyoung argues.</p><p>All eyes land on him. “Right?” His voice comes out as a mere squeak.</p><p>“But… would they really be shutting everything down if they didn’t know that?” Seonghwa wonders aloud.</p><p>“People have been speculating that the governments have known about this for a while but haven’t released any information to prevent panic,” Yeosang says. “But I guess someone got their hands on the information and… well, now we’re here.”</p><p>Yunho scoffs. “That’s fucking stupid!”</p><p>“It makes sense, though,” Hongjoong says. “They probably wanted to hold the panic off for as long as they could.”</p><p>“Then why the hell did they shut everything down <em>now</em>? None of this makes any fucking sense!”</p><p>“Guys.” Mingi’s low voice cuts through them, small and afraid. He’s blinking rapidly, eyes glassy with tears. “Please… don’t fight.”</p><p>Hongjoong sighs and crawls over to Mingi’s side. “Mingi…”</p><p>Their beloved rapper bursts into tears.</p><p>“Hey, please… it’s…”</p><p>The “gonna be okay” gets lodged in his throat. He swallows thickly, encasing Mingi’s broad shoulders in his arms.</p><p>Jongho suddenly sits up. “Whoever decided to shut everything down… they’re all fucking idiots! We’re stuck in a foreign country, there’s no cell service, no way of calling our own fucking families… did people even <em>think </em>about this? If we’re all gonna die, then why did—”</p><p>“We’re not going to die!” Wooyoung screams.</p><p>Mingi throws his hands over his ears.</p><p>“Everybody, <em>stop</em>!” Seonghwa bellows, his normally calm voice turned sour, eyebrows knitted together. Hongjoong looks at him helplessly. “Fighting about this isn’t going to change anything. All we can do is wait for more updates, more info on what’s going on. Yeosang, what do the articles say about the certainty of the asteroid hitting us?”</p><p>“There’s still inconclusive data. They’re not saying that it’ll hit us, but they’re not saying it won’t, either.”</p><p>“Probably to prevent panic,” San says in a mocking tone.</p><p>“Then we can’t come to any rash conclusions,” Seonghwa continues. “Let’s all just take a breather, okay? Look, there’s still wifi, so at least we can stay updated. There’s electricity and running water and food. The staff is still here for us. We’re safe in here.”</p><p>The group shares a doubtful look, apart from Mingi, whose hands are still cupped around his ears, eyes screwed shut.</p><p>Hongjoong knows what Seonghwa must be thinking. In this moment, Hongjoong feels truly powerless, his own words having no weight at all, while Seonghwa steps in and seizes the reins because as much as Hongjoong is the leader, he is also a realist. Hell, he couldn’t even tell Mingi that everything is going to be okay because he <em>doesn’t know.</em></p><p>He knows one thing for sure: all of them are scared.</p><p>The thread connecting them is being pulled taut like this. With Mingi caught in the middle, already past the threshold, Hongjoong knows that it won’t be long until they snap.</p><p>Seonghwa shouldn’t be the one to hold them together.</p><p>“Guys,” Hongjoong speaks, “let’s just… separate for now. I think we all need some time.”</p><p>Wooyoung says nothing, but he stands up and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.</p><p>One by one, the rest of the members take their leave excluding Mingi, who remains huddled up in tears on the floor of Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s hotel room.</p><p>“I’m s-sorry, hyung,” Mingi hiccups. Seonghwa kneels down by his side, offering a comforting hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything,” Seonghwa says.</p><p>“I shouldn’t b-be crying like this.”</p><p>“Mingi, you’re allowed to feel whatever you feel,” Hongjoong tells him. “Just like Wooyoung has every right to be angry, you have every right to be upset. You can cry. It’s okay.”</p><p>“Are we… are we all going to die?” Mingi’s voice ascends so many octaves, it makes Hongjoong think of what he might have been like as a kid.</p><p>Mingi must know that neither of them can answer his question. So instead, he leans further into Hongjoong’s body and continues to sob.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>18 days before</strong>
</p><p>At two in the morning, while Hongjoong has his head resting on Seonghwa’s shoulder, arm crossed over his chest, Seonghwa’s wall cracks.</p><p>“Seonghwa…”</p><p>“Everything’s fucked, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says with a humorless scoff. “I can’t… I don’t know how long I can keep this up. Unless we find out that this asteroid isn’t going to hit us, I’m… I’m afraid of what’s going to happen. Not just to the world, but… to us.”</p><p>The eldest sniffles as he unconsciously hugs Hongjoong tighter. “If the world really <em>is </em>going to end, I don’t want us to be fighting. You guys… you guys <em>are </em>my world.”</p><p>Hongjoong closes his eyes, squeezing the fabric of Seonghwa’s shirt as he bites back tears. Once again, he finds himself at a loss for words when they’re needed most.</p><p>
  <em>A failure. I’m a failure.</em>
</p><p>He doesn’t have it in him to jokingly call Seonghwa a sap this time. Not when the literal weight of the world is crushing them, the calamitous fate of humanity teasing them from above, dictating them like a marionette on a string. If there’s some higher force up there, it’s taunting them, creating more divides between them.</p><p>“You guys are my family,” Seonghwa goes on. “If I can’t even talk to my actual family before everything goes to shit… I’d want all of us to be together. To get along before…”</p><p>“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, “you said it yourself. We can’t come to any rash conclusions. We don’t know if this asteroid is going to hit us or not.”</p><p>“I know it’s all a matter of ‘what ifs.’ But Hongjoong, what <em>if </em>this asteroid is <em>really</em> going to wipe out humanity? What then?”</p><p>Again, Hongjoong says nothing. Seonghwa lets out a lengthy sigh. “I know that people are taught to try not to focus on the negative. To not entertain ‘what ifs.’ But… this is the end of the world we’re talking about. When the possibility of inevitable death is staring you in the face… how can you not panic?”</p><p><em>The possibility of inevitable death. </em>Such a paradoxical phrase, but it sends shivers down Hongjoong’s spine.</p><p>“All we can do is wait,” Seonghwa says.</p><p>There are three things they can possibly wait for.</p><p>1. Answers.</p><p>2. Relief.</p><p>3. The end of the world.</p><p>When Hongjoong doesn’t sleep, it’s nothing new.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>18 days before – Yeosang</strong>
</p><p>June twentieth.</p><p>The date is staring him in the face with devil eyes and claws that threaten to tear his vocal cords from his throat.</p><p>The estimated doomsday.</p><p>Five days after his birthday.</p><p>There has to be something wrong. They can’t possibly tell. The asteroid can’t be <em>that </em>big. There can be something done about it. Right?</p><p>
  <em>Right?</em>
</p><p>Every article that Yeosang stays up reading, refreshes the pages for, they all say the same thing.</p><p>The asteroid is so big that it was able to be detected early. However, astronomers have come to the conclusion that there isn’t anything that can be done, but will continue to monitor the asteroid as it draws nearer.</p><p>
  <em>What kind of bullshit is that?</em>
</p><p>In addition to being massive enough to destroy the planet, it’s hurdling towards Earth at a speed that will most likely cause complete and instant extinction upon impact.</p><p>Which means they won’t even get to see the moment the world ends.</p><p>It can’t be right. There’s no way an asteroid can be that big. They can deflect it, right? Shoot missiles at it or something? Make it stray off course, make it miss the Earth? Destroy it? <em>Something</em>?</p><p>There are answers, but there aren’t. Every article Yeosang reads, each update from every news source he can understand, they all reiterate the same basic understanding of the situation.</p><p>Though they never say it outright, the world is going to end.</p><p>Yeosang wishes they would just confirm it instead of tiptoeing around it. Instead of making it sound like there is hope, just shove it in people’s face, that <em>this is the end</em>, there’s no hope, say your goodbyes, prepare or don’t prepare for the day everything ends.</p><p>He bites the inside of his lip so hard that it might be bleeding. He isn’t entirely sure. His eyes sting from being pried open for so long that when beams of sunlight peek through the curtains, he feels like a vampire being obliterated to dust. He shuts them instantly, only to have a blinding object infiltrate his lack of vision.</p><p>
  <em>The end of the world.</em>
</p><p>“—hey! Yeosang-ah!”</p><p>Somehow, he’s on the floor, broken sobs pouring from his mouth.</p><p>“We’re going to die. We’re all going to die.”</p><p>He feels Yunho’s chest expand beneath his head as the taller holds him close.</p><p>“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yunho strokes his hair and holds him in. Yeosang buries his face in his chest.</p><p>It’s not okay.</p><p>But god, they’re trying to be.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>18 days before – Jongho</strong>
</p><p>When Jongho wakes up, he moans sleepily and notices Wooyoung staring out the window. “Oh, good morning, Jongho-yah.”</p><p>“H-hey.” Jongho wipes the crust from his eyes, wondering if he cried last night or not. He can’t remember.</p><p>“I’m sorry that I got all mad yesterday,” Wooyoung says lowly.</p><p>“It’s okay. It’s understandable. And besides, I know that you weren’t mad at <em>us</em>, you know?”</p><p>Wooyoung nods solemnly. He stands oddly poised at the window, hands clasped behind his back. With the golden sunlight beating down on his skin, he almost looks hauntingly ethereal like this.</p><p>Jongho wonders what the sky will look like on the day the world ends, if it does at all.</p><p>“Did you sleep?” Jongho asks.</p><p>“A little. Not that much,” Wooyoung answers, shrugging. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep that much from now on. Not unless I find out we’re not going to die.”</p><p>Jongho nods and wonders how Hongjoong is faring.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>18 days before – Wooyoung</strong>
</p><p>They’re all in his room when Yeosang drops the news on their shoulders. The anguish is visible on his face too—swollen, bloodshot eyes and heavy bags underneath them, disheveled hair and a deep set frown.</p><p>It feels as if his organs plummet five hundred stories to the ground.</p><p>“So… what does this mean?” Wooyoung asks.</p><p>“It’s all being sugarcoated. There are some answers, but none that really matter. Basically, every article I’ve read says that the asteroid is going to hit. They’re also saying ‘nothing can be done,’ but not explicitly saying that the world is going to end.”</p><p>“Nothing can be done, huh?” Yunho mutters, devoid of emotion. “They can’t shoot the thing down?”</p><p>“The technology we have isn’t advanced or strong enough to do that,” Yeosang says. “They’re monitoring it, but… at this point, that’s all they’re doing.”</p><p>“To think we have just over two weeks until a giant space rock kills us all,” San grunts.</p><p>“It’s an estimated day,” Yeosang elaborates. “Could be sooner, could be later. But that’s what they’re betting on, I guess.”</p><p>More silence.</p><p>It’s so unlike them.</p><p>“W-well, we still don’t know what could happen in between,” Hongjoong says suddenly. “I don’t want to rule out the possibility of salvation.”</p><p>“Hyung,” Jongho says, looking at him helplessly. “I think we all want to cling onto that, but… while I agree it’s still a while before this estimated doomsday, I also think that this whole sugarcoating thing is a tactic to prevent people from panicking.”</p><p>“Yeah,” San says. “Imagine they were to blatantly say, ‘oh, the world is gonna end, better start packing!’”</p><p>“They’re obviously not going to say it like that.”</p><p>“Saying ‘there’s nothing that can be done’ is basically confirming that the world’s gonna end. <em>That’s </em>the sugarcoat,” Yeosang says. He sighs, defeated, and allows himself to collapse back against the bed. “It’s giving people blind hope. Come on, hyung. I know you’re the leader and all and you want to keep our spirits high but… there’s just no getting out of this.”</p><p>All of their gazes scatter around the room with Hongjoong’s being straight down at his lap. No one’s coming to his defense this time, not even Seonghwa. Wooyoung wishes there were something he could say, but now, of all times, is the only instance where he has absolutely nothing.</p><p>None of them have anything.</p><p>But then…</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>18 days before – Yunho</strong>
</p><p>“If we’re going to die in two weeks, we might as well make the most of it.”</p><p>That grabs everybody’s attention, making all of the heads in the room perk up. “I mean,” Yunho continues, attempting to clear his throat of residual doubt, “obviously… we don’t <em>know </em>what’s going to happen since we can’t see into the future. But as grim as things look right now, if we’re going to die in two weeks, the most optimistic thing we can do is make the most of the time we have left, yeah?”</p><p>For a moment, he thinks that maybe it’s too soon. After all, the news was only brought to them the day before. As tired as he feels, as unnerved as he is from seeing Yeosang cowering in his arms, <em>this </em>is what he can do.</p><p>Instill a different kind of hope. One that isn’t focused on trying to believe in an unachievable future, but one that believes in the guaranteed time they have.</p><p>Two weeks, more or less.</p><p>San frowns. “How are we supposed to make the most of it? We’re stuck in a hotel in a country that speaks a language we don’t. Staff isn’t letting us out—”</p><p>“If the world is going to end, who gives a shit about the staff?” Yunho asks, widening some eyes in the room. “At this point… we might as well not even be Ateez anymore. We’re…” He closes his eyes. “Scratch that. We’re always going to be Ateez. But in the two weeks we have left…”</p><p>He doesn’t know what to say.</p><p>It must be that way for everyone.</p><p>“We need to get along,” Seonghwa says for him. “I get that we’re all scared, stressed, and everything in between. But… if we’re all going to die, we shouldn’t be fighting in the time we have left.”</p><p>Yunho notices a corner of Hongjoong’s mouth twitch up in a quarter smile. “I know there isn’t much we can do in terms of entertainment, but like Yunho said, let’s make the most of what we have.”</p><p>To Yunho’s delight, the other members faces light up in tiny smiles. They’re still scared, immensely so, but once again, he was able to make them smile, even if just a little.</p><p>He’ll take it.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>18 days before – San</strong>
</p><p>The streets are a mess.</p><p>San watches from above, from who knows how many stories up, as people clamber up and down the roads, shoving each other, looting, littering, sometimes even fighting…</p><p>And their staff is out there, trying to fend for themselves <em>and </em>the group even though there’s no point anymore.</p><p>“San-ah,” Hongjoong says, tugging his arm. “Come on.”</p><p>With a heavy chest, San turns away from the gruesome sight and rejoins the group.</p><p>Two of the stylists had come in earlier unannounced, left their credits cards, and disappeared without a trace.</p><p>“I don’t get it,” Seonghwa had said. “Why are they… why are they still looking after us? They can’t be serious!”</p><p>“It’s their choice,” Wooyoung replied. By this point, Hongjoong had tucked the two credit cards into his wallet for safekeeping. “They were willing to work with us until the end.”</p><p>“They’re putting themselves out there…” Yunho had thought aloud.</p><p>“It’s suicide,” Jongho had mumbled.</p><p>And that was when San turned away, only to find the chaos below.</p><p>“Please don’t tell me we’re going to do that,” he says.</p><p>“Absolutely not,” Seonghwa says firmly. “I want to hear all of you promise that you won’t go out on your own. We need to stay together, okay?”</p><p>All of the members nod, giving their final salutes, their pledges to stay together.</p><p>“We’re all we have left,” their leader says.</p><p>Not a single word follows, but San’s heart burns with the same passion Hongjoong holds in his voice. They know. All of them know.</p><p>
  <em>They’re all they have left.</em>
</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>18 days before – Seonghwa</strong>
</p><p>Miraculously, when Hongjoong and Seonghwa leave the hotel that evening in search of food, places are still open and selling food for <em>free. </em>Even department stores are still open, selling other household necessities either for free or discounted.</p><p>“I guess there are two ways people react when the world is ending,” Hongjoong says. “They either panic and desperately try to hold on, like every man for himself, or try to make the best of it and help others.”</p><p>Seonghwa glances down at his arms, covered with bags of food and snacks and other necessities, most of which they’d acquired for free or a generously discounted price. “What San saw earlier… I’m glad that it’s not everywhere. Maybe it was just a bad time to look out the window.”</p><p>They walk back mostly in silence, but as they’re walking, Seonghwa happens to notice something in one of the bags Hongjoong is carrying.</p><p>“What… Hongjoong-ah, why did you buy those?” Seonghwa nods at the bag.</p><p>“What? They’re for San and Wooyoung.” Hongjoong smiles fondly with a lighthearted chuckle. “I know that they get up to no good, and I figured that since we have limited time left, they’re going to take advantage of <em>every </em>last minute they have together.”</p><p>Seonghwa can’t help but laugh.</p><p>Even in such a dire circumstance, Hongjoong still finds it in himself to provide for his members, even in more unconventional ways.</p><p>“And who knows? It might not just be for them,” Hongjoong continues, causing a skip in Seonghwa’s heartbeat.</p><p>
  <em>Did he hear that right?</em>
</p><p>“I-I’m not saying that <em>everyone’s </em>gonna use them,” Hongjoong quickly amends. “Just… just in case. ‘Cause… you never know.”</p><p>“Okay, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa says with another laugh.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>18 days before – Mingi</strong>
</p><p>Thanks to the hyungs, they’re all drunk off their asses.</p><p>Luckily, their hotel rooms come stocked with complimentary water and snacks, but with the stuff Hongjoong and Seonghwa managed to gather, Mingi’s feeling pretty good about their chances at survival, until he remembers that they’re technically not going to survive in the end.</p><p>Thankfully, however, because the troubling thoughts are being subdued by the alcohol, he’s laughing at some ridiculous dance Wooyoung is doing instead of crying his eyes out in Hongjoong’s arms again. He feels good. He hopes all of them do.</p><p>Spanish food is pretty damn good too. He supposes he should get used to it.</p><p>“So,” Yunho pipes up suddenly, “I think we should go around and talk about… something that we’ve always wanted to tell another member.”</p><p>Mingi feels his heart convulse.</p><p>Yunho isn’t <em>that </em>drunk, Mingi knows that for sure. He can hold his alcohol like a god. Mingi, on the other hand, cannot.</p><p>Oh god, he’s going to fuck up somehow.</p><p>“Can’t we save that for another night?” San asks with a pout. “We gotta do it closer to doomsday, you know? For, ahem, <em>dramatic effect.</em>” He spreads his arms wide in a grand display, earning several snickers from the other members.</p><p>“I totally agree,” Hongjoong slurs, his small body having been limp in Seonghwa’s lap for the past hour. “Besides, I’d probably burst into tears if I told you guys what I’ve always wanted to tell you, and I am perfectly content right now <em>not </em>crying.”</p><p>“Hyung, you’ve already written plenty of songs for us. We know how you feel about us,” Jongho says, wearing a proud smile.</p><p>Mingi’s head nods lazily at all the words, voices eventually mingling into one. His eyelids are droopy as sleep threatens to take him over. He mindlessly sips water, gets up to use the bathroom a few times, stumbles quite a bit, until he eventually finds himself in a bed (he doesn’t know whose), staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>“Hey.” A finger pokes at his side. “You okay, Mingi-yah?”</p><p>“Mm.” Mingi blinks.</p><p>Is he drunk? Or just out of his mind?</p><p>“Where is everyone?” he asks, the words strung together discordantly. Perhaps he really is that drunk.</p><p>“They all went to bed. Sort of.”</p><p>“Who’s this?” Mingi asks, throwing his arms to his side where the mystery person lies.</p><p>“It’s Yunho, you dunce.”</p><p>Mingi finds it in him to laugh, continuing to playfully swipe at Yunho’s side.</p><p>“Man, I love you, Yunho,” Mingi blurts.</p><p>Yunho chuckles. “Love you too, Mingi.”</p><p>“No, like, I <em>love </em>you.”</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stop talking.</em>
</p><p>“Always have… probably always will. Until we die, I mean.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Yunho’s tone is almost mocking.</p><p>“Mhm,” Mingi answers, drawn out, <em>drunk.</em></p><p>Yunho chuckles again, like the cutest puppy noise. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”</p><p>“Okay,” Mingi agrees easily because 1. he is actually really tired and doesn’t know how he’s managed to stay up this long, and 2. it’s Yunho.</p><p>“I love you,” he mumbles again sleepily, not knowing if Yunho is still there, but his brain is both exhausted and wired at the same time, unable to control his mouth.</p><p>“I love you, love love love you…”</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>17 days before – Jongho</strong>
</p><p>The staff has disappeared.</p><p>For Hongjoong and Seonghwa, an enormous weight has been placed on their shoulders, but even as the youngest, Jongho won’t allow them to go through it alone.</p><p>“I don’t blame them,” Yeosang says. “After all… their jobs are practically useless now.”</p><p>“I don’t understand why they’d leave, though. It’s a hotel. There’s housing, water, electricity… why would they just <em>leave</em>?” Hongjoong asks.</p><p>None of them can answer, but a dark possibility looms over their heads.</p><p>“Let’s just… focus on us, okay?” Seonghwa says. “We need to go out for more supplies today. We can all go out together, or if some of you want to stay here—”</p><p>“I want to go,” Jongho volunteers. “I don’t care who else goes, but I’m going.”</p><p>Nobody argues. In fact, they all assent to going as a full group. More arms equals more supplies after all.</p><p>Jongho didn’t believe Hongjoong and Seonghwa when they said the streets were peaceful the previous night, but sure enough… they are. San is in awe as they gather what they can.</p><p>“I don’t believe it,” he mumbles to himself. “I saw it… I saw how chaotic it was.”</p><p>“Maybe people realized it was the wrong way to go about the end of the world,” Hongjoong tells him. “Say it were the zombie apocalypse instead. People have chances at surviving, which is why it’s every man for himself. In this case, nobody’s going to survive, so…”</p><p>“Humanity is weird and unpredictable,” Seonghwa pitches in.</p><p>By the time they return to the hotel, they have enough supplies that will probably last them until the end of the world. Probably.</p><p>It’s a miracle before ruin, Jongho thinks. He would’ve expected stores to be completely empty. Ransacked. Looted. But to his surprise, while the shelves weren’t necessarily full, the stores were in order, with polite lines and employees, and they have enough to get by for the time being.</p><p>After dinner, while the rest of the members disappear into their rooms and Seonghwa is in the shower, Jongho stays behind.</p><p>“Something you want to talk about, Jongho-yah?” Hongjoong asks, taking a seat at one of the chairs near the table.</p><p>“Just… I want to make sure you know that you and Seonghwa-hyung don’t have to take this on alone,” the youngest says. “I know I’m the youngest, but I’m not useless. None of us are. Just because we’re younger doesn’t mean you have to constantly look after us. You two need to take care of yourselves, too. I hope you know that.”</p><p>A bittersweet smile appears on Hongjoong’s face. “Thank you, Jongho—”</p><p>“I mean it, hyung.” Jongho suddenly takes the leader’s hand and stares straight into his eyes, catching him off guard. “Please.”</p><p>Hongjoong’s bottom lip quivers, the telltale sign of him starting to cry, and it’s only mere seconds before the youngest is pulling him in to a firm hug.</p><p>“I’m so proud of you,” Hongjoong cries into his shoulder. “I’m so, so proud of you. You have no idea how proud I am.”</p><p>Jongho blinks, feeling his own tears beginning to surface.</p><p>
  <em>You don’t have to worry. You’re doing great. Just keep it up.</em>
</p><p>Jongho doesn’t like to cry. He knows he isn’t as in tune with his emotions as the others might be. But maybe, in this time of drastic change, he can forget about the strength he’s well-known for and allow himself to be vulnerable.</p><p>“I want… I want to hear you sing,” Hongjoong says. “It’s what you were meant to do, after all. Never stop singing, Jongho.”</p><p>When Seonghwa emerges from his notoriously long shower, Hongjoong is curled up into Jongho’s side, fast asleep as the youngest sings him lyrics that were meant for him.</p><p>For all of them.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>17 days before – Yeosang</strong>
</p><p>When Yeosang knocks on Wooyoung’s door, San is in the room.</p><p>“Where’s Jongho?”</p><p>Wooyoung shrugs. “He stayed behind in Hongjoong-hyung’s room. I don’t know if he’s coming back or not.”</p><p>“I see.” Yeosang glances over Wooyoung’s shoulder to see San there, phone in hand but probably staring at nothing. The wifi’s capabilities have decreased drastically, leaving barely any reception to reload a page. “I, uh, just wanted to check up on you, so I’ll be going.”</p><p>“Stay,” Wooyoung says, grabbing onto Yeosang’s wrist. “Please, stay.”</p><p>San looks over, eyes locking with Yeosang’s, and nods to concur.</p><p>Even though Wooyoung is… or was, his roommate, best friend of an upwards of six years, Yeosang can’t help but feel nervous upon entering. He has a feeling that he was about to intrude on something quite intimate, and he doesn’t want to be an inconvenience. In this case, a cockblock.</p><p>“Here,” Wooyoung says, motioning at the nightstand in between the beds. “Help us move shit.”</p><p>“What for?” Yeosang asks, though he’s already complying and helping Wooyoung move the table.</p><p>“So we can put the beds together. More room.”</p><p>San stands up and helps them move the beds. Two queen-sized mattresses now joined at the edges make for a pretty big bed, a luxury that Yeosang has never had. It could probably just about fit all of them if they squeezed onto it.</p><p>“I’m sorry if I, um, interrupted anything,” Yeosang says, settling down on one side of the bed after Wooyoung sits on the other.</p><p>Wooyoung frowns, scooting over towards him. “Why the hell are you…” He sighs. “Yeosang-ah, are you jealous? Again?”</p><p>Yeosang flinches at the word.</p><p>
  <em>Again.</em>
</p><p>It’s not again. It never has been again.</p><p>It’s been <em>always.</em></p><p>“I… I’m sorry.”</p><p>Wooyoung sighs again. San straightens up and crawls over to the two, settling between them.</p><p>“Yeosang,” Wooyoung says sternly, “don’t you dare think I don’t love you.”</p><p>Yeosang raises his head, face scrunching up in confusion. “What?”</p><p>“I don’t know where you got this idea that I favor San over you. I mean, I don’t know if that’s your thought exactly, but you sure act like it sometimes.” Wooyoung glances over at San, who gives a slight nod of the head. “We’ve talked about this before. I know you get jealous.”</p><p>“I can’t help it!” Yeosang finally bursts, the frustration and guilt overflowing at the same time. Jealous, frustrated by jealousy, but guilty for being jealous when he <em>should </em>be happy. A constant cycle of pent up emotions that are released and then forgotten, because it’s <em>his </em>problem. He should be happy for them, not jealous. “I-I just, you spend so much time with San, and it feels like… like I’m just forgotten about.”</p><p>Both San and Wooyoung’s faces drop. “Yeosangie… how the hell could I ever forget you?” Wooyoung asks incredulously.</p><p>Yeosang’s face falls into his hands. “It’s such a stupid thing to get upset over, I know—”</p><p>“It’s not stupid.” Wooyoung places a hand on his shoulder. “It’s completely valid. I know… I know that I spend a lot of time with San. But that doesn’t mean that I’d rather spend time with him over you. It’s… it’s my fault that I’m so neglectful, but don’t you dare think for a second that I’ve forgotten about you, or that I don’t care about you or don’t want to hang out with you, because none of those things are true. Yeosang-ah, I <em>love </em>you. I love all of you. Equally. Okay?”</p><p>Yeosang glances up, his vision blurred from tears, to see Wooyoung looking at him with soft eyes and a reassuring smile. San looks just the same, smiling proudly, eyes gleaming.</p><p>“You two were meant for each other, you know,” he says. “Don’t forget Wooyoungie here came to the company for <em>you</em>, Yeosang.”</p><p>Once fond memories, now bittersweet, rewind in Yeosang’s mind.</p><p>He’d been so small back then, so shy, but he knew what he had to do. At a bigger company, he knew his position was at risk. He’d made such amazing friends, made cracks in the shell he’d built around himself, only to realize that <em>maybe he wasn’t going to make it. Not like this. </em>So he left to rediscover his path, still uncertain of where he’d end up, but not once did he forget about the big dreams he and Wooyoung would talk about.</p><p>
  <em>“We have to debut! We have to perform on stages, have concerts abroad!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Whatever we do, let’s do it together, okay?”</em>
</p><p>At the time, when Yeosang had parted from the company he’d met Wooyoung at, he’d momentarily forgotten about those empty promises they’d made to each other, until Wooyoung stood in the doorway with that stupidly proud smile of his and a snarky, <em>“Fancy seeing you here, asshole!”</em></p><p>The promises weren’t so empty anymore.</p><p>
  <em>“Why did you do it? Why did you leave? You had a shot there, I don’t understand—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I told you, Yeosang-ah. Whatever we do, we have to do it together. I will fail with you if we fail, succeed with you if we succeed. I don’t go back on my promises, you know.”</em>
</p><p>What Yeosang found funny was that Wooyoung never explicitly promised him anything, at least out loud.</p><p>Still fairly aloof, Yeosang pretended to not feel much at the time.</p><p>But now, he’s feeling everything.</p><p>He’s sobbing without realizing it. Wooyoung’s hands are cupping his face, thumbs catching his falling tears, forehead against his.</p><p>“I love you, Yeosang,” he whispers. “I love you so much.”</p><p>There’s a hand on his shoulder that isn’t Wooyoung’s. San is still smiling, eyes narrowed with his own oncoming tears.</p><p>“If it counts for anything… I love you too, Yeosang,” he confesses, hand coming up to grasp the back of Yeosang’s neck. “I love both of you. Everyone. So much.”</p><p>Yeosang’s whole body is alight in love and guilt. He’s floating and sinking at the same time, face so dangerously close to Wooyoung’s that maybe Wooyoung’s tears are meeting his own. San has leaned forward, face nearly buried in his neck, his hand having dropped down to his waist.</p><p>“Yeosang.”</p><p>His name has never sounded so ethereal before. He doesn’t have time to wrap his head around it before Wooyoung is crashing his lips to his. At the same time, San’s lips meet his neck.</p><p>Wooyoung swallows his words, wipes his tears, and steals his heart all in that one moment.</p><p>He lets himself melt into the kiss, both of them, head tilting back as warmth pools in his gut, arousal surging through his veins. Wooyoung follows, his lips not once budging.</p><p>When Wooyoung does pull away, San is quick to catch his lips, and Yeosang watches with hazy eyes as his two best friends kiss right before him.</p><p>He’s never seen so much love.</p><p>San kisses him next, his lips so fluid, so accommodating against his. He cradles the back of Yeosang’s head, tilting his own to deepen their kiss.</p><p>Yeosang succumbs to their love.</p><p>With heavy breaths and eager touches, they strip themselves of their clothes, hands roaming skin aimlessly, lips nowhere and everywhere. Yeosang finds himself against the cushioned headboard, head rested upon a mound of pillows as San and Wooyoung kiss down his body, one of their hands grasping his cock. When he manages to pry his eyes open, it’s San, hand firmly planted by the base of his cock as his tongue circles Yeosang’s nipple. Wooyoung only continues his journey down, wrapping his plump lips around Yeosang’s cock.</p><p>“Oh, <em>god, </em>Wooyoung,” Yeosang moans, turning into a surprised yelp as San sucks the hardening bud and tweaks the other. Dragging his tongue up, San closes his mouth around Yeosang’s neck and sucks a beautiful bruise into his skin.</p><p>San eventually joins Wooyoung, and the two work Yeosang with their tongues, moving in sinfully expert ways that brings him to the edge much too early, but how can he resist?</p><p>With the onslaught of the end of the world, there’s no way he can.</p><p>They suck and lick him through his climax, savoring every drop of come he has before their lips meet messily in the middle. Yeosang watches in awe as his come stretches between their lips.</p><p>He can taste himself on San and Wooyoung’s tongues when he kisses them again.</p><p>“I love you guys too,” Yeosang mumbles, feeling the tears from before revisiting.</p><p>“I don’t want to be apart from you,” Wooyoung says, fingers gently stroking his naked back. “Not now, not ever.”</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere,” Yeosang promises.</p><p>It’s no secret that San and Wooyoung are clingy, so when the three of them fall asleep, they’re completely naked, disgusting from sweat and come, but it doesn’t matter. With a messy web of limbs and sticky skin, they lie there in peace until sleep takes them.</p><p>All they can do is wait for sleep to take them permanently, but until then, they will never leave each other’s sides.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>16 days before – Hongjoong</strong>
</p><p>Hongjoong is used to not sleeping, but when he wakes up in the maknae’s arms, he feels near completely rejuvenated. He’s not sure when he fell asleep or how long he slept for, but the youngest is still asleep while the bright rays of sunrise glare through the curtains. On the bed next to them, Seonghwa rests beneath the covers.</p><p>Hongjoong carefully removes himself from Jongho’s hold, cautious not to disturb the youngest’s sleep, and heads for the shower. When he catches a glimpse of his reflection, he grimaces, the clear signs of exhaustion omnipresent on his face, in his eyes, <em>everywhere. </em>As relatively good and well-rested as he feels, his body speaks otherwise.</p><p>When he tries his phone, the wifi is practically dead. So to the songs he has saved on his phone, he sings along quietly and remembers Jongho’s melodious voice singing him his own lyrics.</p><p>He lets the tears unite with the water from the shower and ignores the trembling cadence to his voice.</p><p>Jongho is gone when he gets out of the shower.</p><p>Two hours later, when they’ve all awakened from sleep and share a plethora of breakfast food, Hongjoong notices marks on Yeosang’s neck and eyes them questioningly. He seems to be wearing them proudly, quite out in the open, which is out of his character.</p><p>“So,” Jongho says, coughing for emphasis, “how was everyone’s night?”</p><p>Yunho snorts a chuckle and glances over in Yeosang’s direction. “Mine was good, but probably not as good as Yeosang’s.”</p><p>Everyone but San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang laugh, but the former two smile proudly.</p><p>“So Yeosang’s decided to join in on their fun, huh?” Jongho quips with raised eyebrows.</p><p>“H-hey,” Yeosang squeaks, averting everyone’s amused gazes. “We did kind of collectively agree to make the most of the time we have left, after all.”</p><p>“Fair enough.”</p><p>Just then, Hongjoong remembers the presents he’d procured during his outing with Seonghwa. He ambles over to the bag and shamelessly plops the box of condoms and bottle of lube in the middle of the table, placing his hands on his hips. All of the members gawk at him. “Just in case.”</p><p>San immediately snatches them. Even once the items are gone, Mingi’s gaze remains stagnant on the spot.</p><p>Hongjoong chuckles and watches as San momentarily disappears to put the supplies away, smiling oddly calmly for someone who knows that his fellow members are so openly fucking each other, but he isn’t one to judge them for wanting to indulge in one of humanity’s most ultimate pleasures before the world ends.</p><p>He finds his own eyes locked on that same spot and wonders what it’s like.</p><p>In high school, he’d worked down to the bone. Living on caffeine and morsels for meals, he established a name for himself, that one kid who could never tear his eyes away from his dream. He had plenty of friends because he was (is) more than just amiable. He’s modest, so he wouldn’t admit that, but everyone who has ever known him would attest to it, including his members.</p><p>He had his first kiss at fifteen, a girl whose name Hongjoong tries not to remember because the kiss was pretty terrible. She tried tongue, and Hongjoong just jerked back and told her that he realized he had to be home, which was partially true. It seemed as if she got the message though, because the next days at school, she averted her eyes and opted for forgetting about the whole experience.</p><p>Hongjoong never did, because he’s not the type to forget things. Besides, it had been a learning experience, and he doesn’t forget the things he learns.</p><p>He just hasn’t kissed anyone since then.</p><p>It makes him wonder how San and Wooyoung share their kisses. How they kissed Yeosang last night. If Seonghwa kisses just as gently as he does when it’s his forehead or cheek. If Mingi’s lips are as soft as they look. If Yunho’s hands would swallow his entire face, if Jongho is just as inexperienced as most believe him to be just because he’s the youngest.</p><p>His eyes never leave that spot.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>15 days before – San</strong>
</p><p>“El fin del mundo,” Mingi says to him.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“In Spanish. It means ‘the end of the world.’ Come on, San-ah, thought you were good at languages.”</p><p>“You barely gave me time to respond, you idiot.” San chucks a pillow in his direction that just narrowly misses.</p><p>“They’ve been saying it on the news lately,” Mingi notes, placing the pillow in his lap. His eyes flick over to the television, which is still surprisingly working. Most channels have shut down, with the exception of the news and food channels.</p><p>San watches the television and listens for the phrase, but he doesn’t hear it.</p><p>“Del Mundo,” Mingi repeats in somewhat of a dreamlike voice. “That was so long ago, wasn’t it?”</p><p>San had almost forgotten. Guilt hits him like a train; <em>how could he forget that? </em>The first ever party with their fans, where the moon’s multitude of colors were on display behind them, where Hongjoong and Yunho had a blast fucking up each other’s temporary tattoos, where they’d looked at memories not even a year after they’d debuted like they were a decade old. So much had happened in those terrifying months, and so much had happened since then.</p><p>
  <em>Why did it have to go wrong?</em>
</p><p>The world is the surface San’s feet walk upon, like the mountains he was named after. <em>His </em>world is his members and the people who have held him up for so long. His friends, family, and fans.</p><p>Both worlds will crumble within a matter of two weeks.</p><p>Social media is down. He figures it’s for the best, since it’s practically useless when the world is supposed to end. No social media means less panic, right?</p><p>He’s surprised when he looks out the window and sees no more chaos. Had that day just been particularly bad? Or did humanity get its shit together and decide to band together during their final days together?</p><p>It makes him think. At this point in time, everyone is equal. Rich or poor, famous or not, in a first or third world country, living or dying, everybody shares the same fate.</p><p>He can’t believe that it’s taking the upcoming apocalypse to make that happen. If there are seriously people trying to fend for themselves and completely disregard others with some delusional notion that they’ll live, fuck them.</p><p>“Hey,” Mingi says, snapping him out of his weird reverie, “can I ask you something?”</p><p>“You just did.”</p><p>Mingi frowns, disregarding San’s little joke and continues, “How… how did you and Wooyoung get so close?”</p><p>San raises an eyebrow at him. “Um… we just did? I mean, he didn’t really pay attention to me all that much in the beginning, but… over time, we just clicked.”</p><p>“And in such a short amount of time…”</p><p>“It wasn’t <em>that </em>short. Like… several months.”</p><p>“What exactly do you feel towards him?”</p><p>A growing suspicion sprouts in San’s brain, and he suppresses the urge to smirk. “I love him,” San answers simply.</p><p>“Like… romantically?”</p><p>San shrugs. “Love means a lot of different things, Mingi-yah. Romantically, friendship-wise, familial… love isn’t just something you can claim to be one thing.”</p><p>“W-well, if you had to describe your love for Wooyoung… what would you say?”</p><p>San thinks on it for a few moments but ultimately lets his mouth do the impulsive talking. Whatever comes to mind. And there are a lot of things that come to mind when it comes to Wooyoung.</p><p>“I love him in that I don’t want to be apart from him. Physically, I can be apart from him, though in long periods it drives me insane. But he’s always <em>here </em>with me, you know? Knowing that someone will always be there for you when they’re not <em>there. </em>That’s… one of the most important things in love, I think.”</p><p>Mingi nods consideringly, face contorted, and San can almost picture the gears cranking in his mind. He must have a lot on it, and understandably so.</p><p>After all, he must have put himself through seven or eight years of this torture.</p><p>“Love is so damn complicated,” San says with a sigh. “The age old question of ‘what is love?’ is so redundant and frustrating because it’s subjective. One could answer the question with a single word, another could write a twenty thousand word-long essay about it. Sometimes, you just have to let yourself feel it instead of feeling like you have to explain it.”</p><p>“So… you love him romantically?”</p><p>San just laughs. “Yeah, you could say that. I love him in every possible way, just like the rest of you guys.”</p><p>Mingi’s eyes bug out of his head. “You… what?”</p><p>San smiles with a slight tilt of his head. “I love you, Mingi-yah.”</p><p>Mingi’s mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, eyes not knowing what to do. “You, uh… love me.”</p><p>“Of course,” San answers confidently.</p><p>Because really, he does.</p><p>If his members would allow him, he would show them just as he does Wooyoung and Yeosang, but love doesn’t require intimate touches and kisses behind closed doors. Love doesn’t require hand holding or physical affection, though it’s much encouraged in San’s mind.</p><p>No, to him, love is when you know someone is there when they’re not.</p><p>That’s how he would describe it.</p><p>“S-so… you would… treat me like Wooyoung?”</p><p>“If you’d let me, of course,” San says with a shrug. “I have a lot of love in me, Mingi.”</p><p>Mingi finally settles on a smile, a soft, timid one. San didn’t think he’d see Mingi hide away so much, not when trainee Mingi had been so loud, one of the first to introduce himself to San because he was just so proud of himself. Mingi quite literally towered over him in so many ways, and if San’s being honest, he’d felt inferior to Mingi at some points.</p><p>San aspired to have half the amount of confidence Mingi has, but maybe Mingi is just as good, if not better, at concealing things. Or he just has bad days.</p><p>Whatever the case, it doesn’t matter now.</p><p>“If I let you,” Mingi repeats.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>San can see Mingi mulling it over in his head, so he waits patiently.</p><p>“The reason why Wooyoung and I got so close so soon is because he’s the same way,” he adds. “He has a lot of love to give, even if he might not show it in the most conventional ways. So how it all started was that we had a conversation much like this one, a long time ago. That’s how we became so close.”</p><p>Mingi lets out a halfhearted chuckle. “If only the rest of us were like you two.”</p><p>“I don’t see what’s stopping you.”</p><p>It’s as if San can see Mingi’s entire conscious come crashing down in that very moment. San finally allows himself to smirk.</p><p>“Wait, so, if I were to… say, ask you to kiss me, you would?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Mingi stares at him blankly. San already has his lips prepared, wondering what Mingi’s would feel like.</p><p>“So… can you?”</p><p>“Thought you’d never ask.”</p><p>San takes it slow, explores the unfamiliar territory like his first time with Wooyoung. Mingi’s lips are <em>heaven</em>; though his technique is a little sloppy, his lips are plump and supple, two little pillows on his face, and honestly, it’s almost as good as kissing Wooyoung. Almost.</p><p>“That… was my first real kiss,” Mingi admits in a whisper once San pulls away.</p><p>“<em>Real</em> kiss?”</p><p>Mingi shies away again. “I… kissed Yunho once. It was a dare, though! He taunted me into doing it for his birthday one year in high school, so I did it, and—”</p><p>“God, Mingi-yah.” San chuckles and shakes his head. “Just tell him already, you lovestruck idiot.”</p><p>Mingi doesn’t get up, he just positions himself back against the headboard, stares straight ahead, and places his hands on his belly. San scoffs, assuming the same position as the Spanish news anchor says something along the lines of “El fin del mundo nos espera.”</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>15 days before – Mingi</strong>
</p><p>While Yeosang has sheltered himself with San and Wooyoung, Mingi makes the next-door trip to Yunho’s room.</p><p>He stands outside the door, heart hammering beneath his ribs, imagining the door being a gateway to all of the times Yunho had stolen his heart, given it back, tore it apart (in a good way), stepped on it (again, in a good way), and made it his. All the times in high school when Yunho told him that his friends were stupid for not waiting for him to finish eating. When Yunho had taken him out on several occasions to places that a high schooler shouldn’t be able to afford. When he and Yunho <em>thought </em>they would be separated from each other while they trained at different dance studios, but the thread of fate is funny like that, he supposes. How they’d given each other the biggest bear hug upon reuniting, and Yunho took him out to dinner <em>again</em>.</p><p>When he kissed Yunho in the middle of his room, next to his bed. Yunho had laughed at him, not in an offensive way but in an endearing sort of way, and Mingi shoved the embarrassment down his throat along with Yunho’s birthday dinner.</p><p>Mingi can see it all coming back to him before he even opens the door and wonders if Yunho remembers it as vividly as he does.</p><p>“I love you,” he blurts as soon as Yunho is in sight.</p><p>Yunho glances up from his phone, pulling his earbuds out. “Love you too.”</p><p>“No, I mean… I <em>love </em>you, okay? I’m head-over-heels in love with you, probably have been all this time ever since that one time I kissed you on your birthday in high school. I know it sounds stupid, and I guess I’ve just kind of been repressing all of these emotions for a long time because there was just no point in trying to start something when all we did was practice and work. Not to mention having feelings for a fellow member is kind of risky to begin with. But I figured I have nothing to lose anymore because—”</p><p>Mingi hadn’t even realized Yunho getting up and striding over to him until a familiar pair of lips is upon his, <em>more </em>this time.</p><p>Not just a silly little dare peck.</p><p>Yunho grabs his wrists tenderly. His long ass fingers can cover the entirety of them.</p><p>It’s as if Mingi is in his room all over again, but the kiss lingers and teenage Mingi looks at his best friend and goes, “I like you.”</p><p>And Yunho goes, “I like you too.”</p><p>“I love you,” present Mingi says again when his lips are free.</p><p>“You’re a moron,” Yunho tells him before kissing him again. “I love you too, you absolute idiot.”</p><p>Mingi laughs. Laughs just as hard as he did when they were at Yunho’s birthday dinner and Yunho said something completely inane and crude that made lemon water spurt from his nostrils. Yunho laughs too, his hands coming up to cup Mingi’s jaw this time, holding his head against his in a moment that Mingi has yearned for for so goddamn long.</p><p>“Maybe not for as long as you have,” Yunho says, his hands slowly making their way behind Mingi’s neck. Mingi’s hands settle as his waist. “But I know that whatever I feel for you isn’t just platonic.”</p><p>“I’ve been losing my mind over it for years, dude,” Mingi confesses with a piteous laugh.</p><p>“You seriously don’t remember you already told me though?” Yunho questions.</p><p>“I did?”</p><p>“Damn, you must have repressed a lot. It was just a few nights ago, when you were drunk. You got all clingy and told me you loved me.”</p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p>Maybe he did suppress that, but he seems to do that unconsciously, as he’s come to learn.</p><p>“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it. To be honest, I think both of us were just really tired and out of our minds, so.” Yunho sighs and pulls away enough to look at him, <em>all </em>of him. “Now, we know.”</p><p>Mingi isn’t an idiot in most aspects, but maybe he is when it comes to love.</p><p>Suddenly, there’s a knock on their door and the sound of racing footsteps, and when Mingi glances down, there’s a condom and four packets of lube on the floor.</p><p>“Oh my god.”</p><p>Yunho bursts out laughing.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>15 days before – Yunho</strong>
</p><p>They make up for lost time and the time they will never have.</p><p>Not all in one night, though. Because as much as Yunho is excited, he’s nervous, both of them are. Bare chest to chest, Yunho wonders if Mingi can feel his heart pounding against his. Already covered in a thin layer of sweat, their bodies slot together perfectly, like they were made to, because they probably are.</p><p>Mingi is terrified, Yunho notices. Because as aroused as he is, he hesitates even as Yunho presses feather-light kisses onto the vee of his hips, so close to his half-hard cock.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Yunho asks. He eyes Mingi knowingly, because after all these years, he can tell when Mingi is lying.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Mingi says. He passes the first test, no lies detected. “Just nervous.”</p><p>“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Yunho tells him, running his fingers along Mingi’s hipbones. “We really don’t. I don’t want you to feel like you <em>have </em>to do this.”</p><p>“I know I don’t have to. I want to, believe me.” Mingi lets out a chuckle. “I’ve just never don’t anything remotely close to this.”</p><p>“Neither have I,” Yunho says. “Most I’ve gotten to was like… second base. No genitals involved.”</p><p>“I’m honored, then.” Mingi places his hand palm-down on his chest. With a lazy smile, he draws in a deep breath. “Please, Yunho. If there’s anyone I trust to do this, it’s you.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>To quell his own tremoring heart, Yunho takes a deep breath of his own, sliding his tongue along the underside of Mingi’s cock. He does it like he’s seen it in porn, in addition to how he’d imagine it should be done. Hooking his arms under Mingi’s thighs, he sucks the head into his mouth, the heat and weight of it taking him aback, but it’s not that he doesn’t like it.</p><p>It’s Mingi. Of course he’ll like it.</p><p>“Oh, fuck,” Mingi groans, arching slightly off the bed and driving his cock further into Yunho’s mouth. Yunho takes it surprisingly well, just startles a bit before getting his bearings again and maneuvering his mouth along Mingi’s cock.</p><p>“Fuck, I can’t last long like this,” Mingi warns, thrusting shallowly.</p><p>“It’s okay.” Yunho ascends his body, catching his lips instead as he pushes his own cock against Mingi’s slicked-up one.</p><p>To Yunho’s surprise, Mingi grabs his hips and pulls him down, <em>hard</em>, creating more friction between them as he latches onto Yunho’s neck. “M-Mingi—” He gasps when he feels teeth, his skin being sucked into his mouth.</p><p>He imagines a bruise much like Yeosang’s flourishing on his skin.</p><p>Yunho does it back because he won’t be the only one being ridiculed at breakfast the next day. Mingi squeals when he does it.</p><p>“Y-Yunho, wait, I’m—<em>nngh</em>—I’m c-close.”</p><p>Yunho doesn’t wait. He doesn’t stop; he rakes his tongue over Mingi’s neck to attack the other side and feels a wet warmth between their bodies while he’s sucking a second hickey into the skin.</p><p>He’s breathing hard, and for a moment, Yunho worries. He pulls away and sits up, staring down to assess the damage.</p><p>Two vibrant purple hickeys with rings of red teeth marks sit on either side of Mingi’s neck. On their stomachs, Mingi’s come dripping off their skin.</p><p>“God, I’m so sorry,” Mingi says, covering his face with his hands, which Yunho promptly removes.</p><p>“Why on earth are you sorry?”</p><p>“I came so fucking fast.” Mingi laughs pitifully.</p><p>Yunho laughs too, but he laughs at the fact that they’ve waited so long to do this. He places a single kiss to the tip of Mingi’s nose.</p><p>“We can use the condom another night,” Yunho says.</p><p>“At least let me get you off.” Mingi doesn’t let him respond; instead, he grabs onto Yunho’s hips again, and Yunho lets him flip them both over.</p><p>Yunho watches as Mingi does what he’d done to him, and Yunho comes just as quickly.</p><p>They’re even. They’re in sync. But what else is expected of soulmates?</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>14 days before – Seonghwa</strong>
</p><p>Just after three in the morning, Seonghwa hears Hongjoong crying. Then, he hears familiar melodies, muffled.</p><p>Hongjoong is beside him, the bluish glare of his laptop burning his corneas as ‘From’ rings in his headphones.</p><p>Blinking the bleariness of sleep from his eyes, Seonghwa reaches over to nudge Hongjoong’s knee. “Hey, what are you doing, Joong-ah?”</p><p>The question is quickly answered in Seonghwa’s brain. Even in overarching darkness, Seonghwa can see the familiar swell of Hongjoong’s eyes and his quivering lips. It’s then that the oldest realizes what version of ‘From’ it actually is. It’s the instrumental, the <em>primitive </em>instrumental, along with the vocal guide that Hongjoong and Jongho recorded in a closet. The instrumental that Hongjoong had worked so hard to recover because some asshole decided to wipe his laptop.</p><p>Fuck Chris.</p><p>At a time when they didn’t know where they’d end up. A simpler yet more complicated time. A time when all of them were exploring uncharted territories with each other, the unfamiliarities of blossoming friendships and initial awkwardness. Getting to know one another.</p><p>When Seonghwa had been upset because Hongjoong wasn’t as affectionate to him as he was towards the other members.</p><p>If only Seonghwa had known back then how wrong he would turn out to be.</p><p>“Just… taking a trip down memory lane, I guess.” Hongjoong pauses the song and lets the headphones rest on his neck. “Can’t sleep, but what else is new?”</p><p>Seonghwa props himself up on his elbow and glances over at the program Hongjoong has open. He’s never fiddled around with music technology, so looking at all the panels and buttons has his already tired brain spinning. “Don’t know how you do it,” he says.</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>“Everything. Literally everything.” Seonghwa chuckles, pressing forward until his face is just next to Hongjoong’s arm. “You do everything for us. And I mean. <em>Everything</em>.”</p><p>“The fans say that too,” Hongjoong says with a fond smile.</p><p>“Well, they’re right. And you do it for them. For us.”</p><p>Seonghwa watches a small portion of Hongjoong’s bottom lip disappear into his mouth. “All my hard work…”</p><p>“Don’t you dare fucking say it was for nothing.” Seonghwa can’t help the aggressive defensiveness as soon as Hongjoong’s words enter his ears.</p><p>Because he knows Hongjoong. Somehow, Hongjoong always gets modest, sometimes self-deprecating, when it comes to his work. But Seonghwa wants, <em>needs </em>Hongjoong to know and understand that people are so endlessly proud of his work, that it’s <em>not </em>for nothing, never has been, and never will be. Even if… <em>when </em>the world caves in on itself, blasts itself into a bajillion tiny pieces, Hongjoong’s songs, lyrics, words, actions, <em>everything</em>, will be engraved in the universe somewhere, somehow.</p><p>Seonghwa will not allow Hongjoong to slip like this.</p><p>“I… wasn’t going to say that,” Hongjoong says, though Seonghwa doesn’t know how much he believes him. “It’s just… so weird to think about. That within two weeks, maybe more, maybe less, we’ll all be gone. My songs will be gone. Nobody will remember them. I’m not saying that it was all for nothing… I’m not.”</p><p>Seonghwa sighs while Hongjoong’s voice trembles. He can’t tell if he’s lying or not.</p><p>“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, “I know that I can be tough sometimes. I know that I don’t get enough sleep and that the kids wanted me to be home more often. I know that I can get frustrated easily sometimes.”</p><p>“All qualities of a great leader, you know.”</p><p>“I just… Seonghwa, tell me something.”</p><p>“Shoot.”</p><p>“Do you have any regrets? Any at all?”</p><p>Seonghwa takes one last look at Hongjoong’s laptop, the LED radiance too much for his tired eyes, so he lets them slip shut again.</p><p>“Maybe some small ones. Like, stupid mistakes everyone makes as a kid. But if you mean during the time I spent being a part of this group… then no. I don’t.”</p><p>There’s a hand in his hair. Hongjoong’s laptop clicks shut.</p><p>“I don’t think I do either.”</p><p>“You don’t think?”</p><p>“If I say something self-deprecating, you’ll yell at me.”</p><p>Seonghwa can feel Hongjoong’s breath on his face.</p><p>“Shoot,” he says.</p><p>It doesn’t take long for Hongjoong to admit.</p><p>“I wish… I wish I could’ve been a better leader for all of you.”</p><p>Seonghwa wastes no time in pulling Hongjoong in as the leader breaks down, tears soaking into the pillow and his shoulder, but Seonghwa doesn’t care.</p><p>“I don’t have the energy to yell at you,” Seonghwa says half-jokingly. Hongjoong laughs, just a little. “But if you’re not going to believe me when I tell you this, at least <em>think </em>about it.”</p><p>Sweat on his forehead. Blue lights beaming down onto his hair, pink, faded. Tears from the hard work paying off, making them proud, <em>every single one of them. </em>Hongjoong had tried to get away from him, barely, because there’s no way the leader could deny them their desires. So he let Seonghwa take his hand and, with the proudest smile at the height of Jongho’s solo, Seonghwa sang to him.</p><p>
  <em>“Thank you.”</em>
</p><p>Hongjoong is sobbing relentlessly now, his body a moldering pillar in his arms. For so long, Hongjoong stood so tall, so strong, with the patience of a saint and the powerful voice of a venerated king.</p><p>In this moment of weakness, Seonghwa still doesn’t see anything less.</p><p>“Nobody’s perfect, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa says. “But we wouldn’t want anybody else. I love you, Hongjoong-ah. We all do.”</p><p>In this moment of bravery, Hongjoong seals the deal.</p><p>“Kiss me,” he says. “Please.”</p><p>Seonghwa doesn’t even hesitate.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>14 days before – Jongho</strong>
</p><p>There are even more marks this time around.</p><p>Five out of eight members have hickeys on their necks. It was fun to poke fun at at first, but upon seeing fresh ones on Yunho and Mingi’s necks, he can’t help but feel a little left out.</p><p>So he goes to the ones he knows will indulge him.</p><p>“Thought you hated kisses, hm?” Wooyoung questions with an amused smirk and raise of the eyebrow.</p><p>“H-hey, it’s… not that I <em>hate </em>them.” Jongho pouts <em>totally </em>unconsciously.</p><p>“You could’ve literally asked us at any point in time and we would’ve give you some,” San says. “So, you want one?”</p><p>“Kinda, yeah.”</p><p>Wooyoung giggles, already throwing himself onto Jongho’s lap. The sturdy maknae catches him easily. “Pucker up, then.”</p><p>“Wait, I meant a hickey, not—”</p><p>His words are smothered by Wooyoung’s kiss, and at the same time his neck is ambushed by San’s, teeth and all. As sudden as Wooyoung’s kiss had been, he’s gentle, using no tongue but moving his mouth with passion and <em>years </em>worth of experience.</p><p>He can’t help the whimper that escapes his lips and into Wooyoung’s as San sucks a fresh bruise into his neck.</p><p>“Do you want more?” San whispers against the shell of his ear.</p><p>“Y-yes, please.”</p><p>“So cute, Jongho-yah!” Wooyoung squeals, burying his face in the other side of his neck while San continues to work the other.</p><p>Jongho has always hated kisses.</p><p>But maybe he just hasn’t been kissed right.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>13 days before – Wooyoung</strong>
</p><p>The best and worst things always seem to happen at night. He checks his phone for the time. June seventh, 4:32 a.m.</p><p>Somebody is <em>bawling.</em></p><p>Wooyoung wakes with a start, immediately warning San and Yeosang who are curled up on either side of him. It’s then that he realizes that he really doesn’t know where anybody is anymore. Roommates are no longer roommates. Jongho isn’t even here.</p><p>
  <em>Jongho.</em>
</p><p>The trio are up and running to the source of the sorrowful sound, which is in Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s room. The door is cracked open, so they enter.</p><p>One of the bedside table lamps is on, and Jongho is wailing on the floor with the rest of the members surrounding him.</p><p>“Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” Wooyoung asks. The three of them are quick to drop to their knees along with the other members, gathering around their youngest.</p><p>“He had a nightmare,” Hongjoong says.</p><p>“It’s g-gonna come t-true,” Jongho hiccups. “We’re all g-onna d-die.”</p><p>“Jongho-yah…” San inches closer to him, resting a hand over his.</p><p>“I w-won’t even live to s-see my birthday,” Jongho says, glancing up. There are fat tears pouring from both his eyes, a rare sight to see. “All of you… won’t get to see your next birthdays. Except you, hyung.”</p><p>All eyes land on Yeosang. His eyes close, lips pressed into a thin line as he ducks his head.</p><p>“Then we’ll celebrate them all,” Hongjoong declares, and their gazes go from Yeosang to him. “On Yeosang’s birthday. We’ll celebrate all of our birthdays.”</p><p>Nobody raises any objections.</p><p>Several minutes later, when the youngest has calmed for the most part thanks to the support from his hyungs, his labored breaths speak for him.</p><p>“I’m s-so scared.”</p><p>Wooyoung reaches down and cups his cheek, <em>adorable</em>. Somehow, even as an adult, he still has that little last bit of baby fat to his cheeks that really do make him look like the youngest. Wooyoung lowers his thumb down to his neck, just over one of the many bruises he and San had left him.</p><p>Nothing is okay. Wooyoung isn’t about to lie and say that it is.</p><p>“We’re together, aren’t we?” he asks. “So we’ll be scared together. That’s how it is.”</p><p>Seemingly content, Jongho swallows and nods.</p><p>“Here.” Yunho stands up, motioning towards the two beds. “Help me move this stuff.”</p><p>Much like they’d done in Wooyoung’s room, the members help slide the beds together to create one big space for all of their bodies to lay.</p><p>Wooyoung waits until Jongho’s breathing evens out before he even thinks about sleeping himself.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>12 days before – Yeosang</strong>
</p><p>One week until his birthday, and twelve days before doomsday.</p><p>Yeosang has never been <em>that </em>excited for his birthday in previous years, but this one feels the most dismal of all.</p><p>After all, the day of his birth marks five days before the apocalypse.</p><p>It doesn’t feel real. But then he clenches and unclenches his fists, sings himself some of their own lyrics, stares at his own reflection in the mirror until it warps into some sick, twisted version of himself that’s reminding him, <em>“You’re the only one who gets to see your birthday before you all die.”</em></p><p>His tears splatter onto the porcelain sink. No matter how hard he tries not to think about it, they just keep coming at him.</p><p>He’s so tired that he can touch the air and its particles. They’re singing to him and telling him that he’s still here. And then gravity shoves him down, brings him back to Earth and teases him with, <em>“You won’t be here in just a few days.”</em></p><p>Yeosang grips the edges of the sink so hard that the skin beneath his nailbeds go white. His face is red, almost the color of his birthmark. His fucking birthmark. <em>Birth. He was born. He is going to die.</em></p><p>“Yeosang… please, open up,” Wooyoung pleads. The door handle clatters but does nothing else.</p><p>Yeosang wants nothing more than to smash this mirror to pieces and break the reflection that he’s obsessed over for so long. He’s so fucking sick of it.</p><p>
  <em>“You’re so handsome, Yeosangie!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s like a statue!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So perfect!”</em>
</p><p>“I’m not perfect!” Yeosang screams, his voice raw from crying. He lets his forehead collide with the mirror. It barely thuds. He can’t do this to himself.</p><p>He’s handsome, sure. He acknowledges it. He believes it, even though he might not have in the beginning.</p><p>“Please, Yeosang… we want to help you.”</p><p>His members are doing nothing different from the beginning.</p><p>For as long as he can remember, they’ve done nothing but lift him up, support him, hold him on an indestructible pedestal because <em>That’s what you deserve, Yeosang.</em></p><p>That pedestal will die with the rest of them.</p><p>When Yeosang finally opens the door, there are so many arms around him that he doesn’t even realize who’s who.</p><p>“You’re okay, Yeosang,” San says. Someone pets his hair. It might be San, it might not be. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”</p><p>When the weakness in Yeosang’s knees becomes too much to bear, the members don’t carry him to a bed. Instead, they collapse with him, holding him even as his knees crash to the bathroom floor.</p><p>It’s not okay. How could the end of the world, the destruction of humanity and the death of all living, be okay?</p><p>Yeosang certainly doesn’t feel okay. But he knows that if he isn’t okay, then neither are his members.</p><p>So he tries to be. He tries so hard.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>11 days before – Mingi</strong>
</p><p>They try again.</p><p>Mingi does his best to breathe and tries to forget about the fact that his breaths are limited. Like Yunho proclaimed, <em>he has to make the most of his time left. </em>And even though it sounds kind of stupid, he doesn’t want to die a virgin.</p><p>Yunho takes his precious time. Mingi doesn’t tell him, but as he hovers over him, he can feel his heart thunderously pounding when his palm flattens against his chest. When Yunho kisses him and their chests touch, Mingi can feel every breath and beat of his heart, <em>so in sync</em>.</p><p>“Just so you know, I have no idea what I’m doing. I asked San and Wooyoung for advice, so… hopefully it’ll be okay.”</p><p>Mingi chuckles, silently putting his invisible trust in the palm of Yunho’s hand. He spreads his legs, suddenly feeling an unfamiliar sense of embarrassment from being exposed like this.</p><p>But he reminds himself that Yunho already has all of him.</p><p>San had lent them the whole bottle of lube. Squirting a generous amount onto his fingers, Yunho strokes two fingers along his entrance, coating it with the slick substance. Mingi feels a twitch of his face. It’s not bad or uncomfortable, it’s just… weird.</p><p>When Yunho slides a finger into him, it’s even weirder. “Shit,” he gasps, the insides of his thighs tensing on instinct.</p><p>“What, what? Are you okay?” Yunho asks, bewildered.</p><p>“Y-yeah, just feels really weird.”</p><p>“Do you want me to take it out?”</p><p>“No, god, no. Keep going.”</p><p>With a dubious look, Yunho nods and twists the single finger, feeling him out. “Mingi-yah, you need to relax, okay?”</p><p>Mingi is trying, really. Yunho stills his finger inside until he gets the okay to keep going. Over and over, Mingi tells himself <em>relax, relax</em>, ironically forcing himself to relax until he finds himself loosening up, whether it be from the steady flow of oxygen or him <em>literally </em>being loosened up.</p><p>“You can add another,” he says.</p><p>Yunho is cautious about it though, adding another generous amount of lube to make it as easy as possible for him. Just the notion makes Mingi’s heart flutter.</p><p>His best friend. His soulmate, lover, <em>whatever. </em>He trusts him with his entire being.</p><p>All of a sudden, something inside him is stimulated, some weird jolt sent from his pelvis to his stomach to everywhere else. It’s still weird, a very unfamiliar feeling, but it’s <em>good. </em>“There,” he pants quickly. “Do that again.”</p><p>“What, here?” Yunho presses the same spot, and Mingi lets out a shrill yelp. “Oh, San told me about this. Nice.”</p><p>Mingi would laugh at Yunho’s nonchalant remark if it weren’t for the constant pressure against his prostate.</p><p>The third finger is where Mingi has to take more deep breaths because the stretch is insane. Yunho holds his fingers still until Mingi says the word, as in, <em>actual </em>words because <em>“The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Mingi-yah.”</em></p><p>However, three fingers is nothing compared to Yunho’s cock once he’s finally nestled inside. Mingi’s head is thrown back in discomfort and pleasure, not much pain, but it’s so so so weird because he’s never had <em>anything </em>up his ass before and his mind is kind of exploding right now.</p><p>Yunho leans forward and kisses the sweat away. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”</p><p>“Doesn’t hurt… just feels… weird. And no, I don’t want you to take it out.”</p><p>Yunho just chuckles and kisses him again. “How does it feel for you?” Mingi asks.</p><p>“You’re fucking <em>tight</em>,” Yunho tells him, grinning lustfully. “Trust me, I don’t think I can last long, but I’ll try.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Mingi reassures, connecting his hands behind Yunho’s neck. Pulling him in to kiss him again, Yunho inadvertently buries himself even deeper, eliciting a long, throaty groan from Mingi.</p><p>When Mingi gives him the verbal okay, Yunho still goes slow, and Mingi can feel all the love in the world from how he’s holding him.</p><p>Yunho, his best friend of seven or eight years. Maybe nine. Honestly, it’s been so fucking long. But a prime example being San and Wooyoung, maybe time can be irrelevant sometimes. When Mingi looks at Yunho, he imagines that is what it must be like for them.</p><p>Yet… he remembers the way San had looked at him.</p><p>
  <em>“I have lots of love in me, Mingi.”</em>
</p><p>Love.</p><p>“I love you,” Mingi says, tears in the corners of his eyes because he’s so <em>overwhelmed</em> with the weight of the oncoming end and the love bursting from the depths of his heart. He loves Yunho, he loves San, he loves <em>all of them</em>, so fucking much.</p><p>“I love you too,” Yunho says back, panting. “I love you so fucking much.”</p><p>Yunho keeps his promise and holds back until Mingi finishes first, then tears off the condom and jerks himself to completion, adding to the mess on Mingi’s stomach. He even cleans them up, at least, he wipes them down before they ultimately end up in the shower together, slippery wet hands all over each other because they can’t get enough.</p><p>Especially when the world is going to end in two weeks.</p><p>But while he’s here, under a stream of warm water with the love of his life, he lets himself forget about that.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>10 days before – Hongjoong</strong>
</p><p>“They’re making good use of the condoms, I see,” Seonghwa says with mirth. “Went to San’s room last night. Accidentally walked in on something I wasn’t supposed to see.”</p><p>“Which was?” Hongjoong questions.</p><p>“Well, you can guess. But I was quite surprised to see Jongho there as well.”</p><p>Hongjoong’s mouth drops open. “<em>What</em>? They’ve managed to corrupt our dearest maknae?” he exclaims melodramatically, followed by a chuckle.</p><p>“I’m glad they’re having fun,” Seonghwa says as he climbs into bed next to him.</p><p>“Have you… done it before, Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asks.</p><p>The boundaries are long gone, he figures. None of them have anything to lose. That must be what all of them are thinking.</p><p>“Got real close, but no,” Seonghwa says. “I had a really open group of friends in high school. They were all about experimenting, being open with each other. Made out with a few of them, got close to going all the way but never did. It felt kind of weird at the time, maybe ‘cause I was on the road to being a trainee.”</p><p>“Have you… kissed a guy? Before me, I mean.”</p><p>“Yeah, I have,” Seonghwa says, smiling reminiscently. “My first kiss was one of my guy friends, actually. Somehow, we both managed to explore our sexualities over a game of spin the bottle.”</p><p>“That’s good.”</p><p>“Have you?”</p><p>Hongjoong shakes his head and retells the story of that one girl and the years of nothing that followed. “I just never had the time,” he elaborates.</p><p>“You’ve always been dedicated to music,” Seonghwa says.</p><p>“And you guys,” Hongjoong amends.</p><p>“And us.”</p><p>Feeling bold, Hongjoong rolls on top of him, straddling his thighs and admires the way the lamps barely illuminate the definitions of his face. Seonghwa has always been so handsome, even when his eyebrows were untrimmed (to be fair, so were Hongjoong’s). Much like Yeosang, Seonghwa was considered another visual. There were always jokes about how their jawlines could cut somebody and how their eyes could easily entrance the people who lay eyes on them.</p><p>But Seonghwa has vocalized this before.</p><p>He wasn’t always so confident.</p><p>Hongjoong can’t fathom <em>how. </em>Since the day they met, Seonghwa, <em>all of them</em>, were so beautiful. Eight unique personalities from eight different walks of life, each of them held their own beauty, their own talents and flaws and everything in between. The perfections that they saw as flaws, and the flaws that made them who they were. Who they <em>are</em>.</p><p>Seonghwa’s face is still smooth. His jawline is still a straight, perfect edge. His eyes are still wide and intense, eyebrows much neater than they were in the past, but all in all, he’s still Seonghwa, the same man Hongjoong had always looked up to.</p><p>The same man who cared way too much about him, scolded him for not picking up after himself and for not getting enough sleep. The same man who voiced his appreciation endlessly, who praised the leader whenever he could, who looked after the kids when he was too busy in the studio.</p><p>A vortex of guilt and love mangles his insides. It hurts, but he still finds himself tugging Seonghwa up by the shirt collar and connecting their lips.</p><p>The hurt doesn’t go away, but a small amount of it subsides when Seonghwa wraps his arms around him almost instantly.</p><p>Seonghwa kisses his tears. He sheds a few of his own but wipes them away for Hongjoong’s sake. Hongjoong wonders how many times he’s done that in the past.</p><p>“I love you, Hongjoong-ah,” he says.</p><p>Hongjoong says it back this time.</p><p>He lets Seonghwa’s tongue slip inside his mouth. He lets Seonghwa slide his hands under his shirt and touch him in ways he never thought he’d be touched, at least, not so early in his life. But as his life draws closer to its end, he figures it’s pretty late.</p><p>Seonghwa sucks a bruise into his neck, his collarbone, his hips, and even to the insides of his thighs, matching him with the other members. Hongjoong tries to give him some too, and surprisingly, he succeeds in giving him a massive one right at the base of his neck, almost as big as his actual mouth.</p><p>It’s their turn to make use of the supplies Hongjoong had bought.</p><p>Hongjoong is far from fragile. His mind and body have taken a lot, both emotional and physical scars, so to have Seonghwa inside of him feels like nothing in comparison.</p><p>Well, not <em>nothing. </em>Because it’s one of the most pleasurable things Hongjoong has ever felt.</p><p>He lets his mind go blank for the time being. Because while his mind is a blank slate, words like “I love you” fill it instead of criticism from both himself and others. Seonghwa writes it in his sloppy, squiggly handwriting, signs it with a heart, and tattoos it on Hongjoong’s brain.</p><p>He makes sure to leave room for the rest of them.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>9 days before – San</strong>
</p><p>San actually screeches when he walks in on Yunho and Mingi fucking, not because he’s mortified, but because he’s relieved that <em>fucking finally</em>, those two idiots got together. Sure, there were the hickeys, but now he knows they’re actually <em>together </em>together.</p><p>So he brings the rest of the ninety-nines to celebrate.</p><p>During that time, where their beds are their playground and mouths are on skin and hands are aimlessly wandering, San tells them.</p><p>“I love you all. I love you all so, so much.”</p><p>Mingi says it next, pulling San in to kiss him, all messy with tongue and spit and endless amounts of <em>love.</em></p><p>They take turns saying it.</p><p>None of them really pay attention to who they touch. While the weight of their fate and the love that they feel clouds their mentality, they lose themselves to pleasure because they know that they won’t be able to do this when the day finally comes.</p><p>When all is done, San breaks down.</p><p>And when San breaks down, all of them do.</p><p>Their tears add to the mess of their bodies.</p><p>“It’s… it’s really the beginning of the end, huh?” Yeosang muses.</p><p>San finds half a heart in him to laugh.</p><p>“Like a thunder.”</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>8 days before – Wooyoung</strong>
</p><p>At this point, Wooyoung just wants it to be over with.</p><p>The clocks are maddening to watch. Constant reminders that tick away, that will continue to tick away until the asteroid blows all of them to smithereens.</p><p>He spends time with the members. He cuddles them, eats with them, talks to them. But god, he’s just so fucking ready.</p><p>“Just fucking take me,” he grumbles to himself as San straightens the sheets (pointlessly).</p><p>“Don’t talk like that,” San chides with a frown. Yeosang gives him a similar look.</p><p>When they’re all settled into bed beneath the blankets, Wooyoung lets himself sob.</p><p>San and Yeosang are there to hold him, but it’s as if they’re slipping away, <em>they all are</em>, because it’s all so fucking useless.</p><p>They don’t shush him. San is a big believer in ‘let people cry and don’t tell them not to.’ They simply squish him in a San-Yeosang sandwich, kiss his forehead, pet his hair, and tell him that he’ll be okay.</p><p><em>No, I won’t, </em>he thinks.</p><p>
  <em>I’ll be dead.</em>
</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>7 days before – Seonghwa</strong>
</p><p>Hongjoong is asleep at nine at night.</p><p>Seonghwa smiles softly. <em>Finally</em>, Hongjoong is asleep at a sound time, and he’ll hopefully get at <em>least </em>seven hours.</p><p>It’s strange, seeing Hongjoong sleeping so peacefully. He looks much less tired when he’s asleep. Seonghwa just hopes he doesn’t have any nightmares.</p><p>There’s a soft knock at his door at ten. Unsurprisingly, it’s Jongho.</p><p>The youngest has been staying in their room for the past few nights, partially because of San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang occupying Wooyoung’s room, but also because there’s something about being in the oldest members’ company that makes him feel safe.</p><p>None of them are, but Seonghwa keeps that to himself.</p><p>“He’s finally sleeping, huh?” Jongho says, keeping his voice low. “He deserves a good rest.”</p><p>“He’s exhausted. More than usual. Well, I’d imagine we all are.”</p><p>“I think it’s because we know that the world’s going to end, so our bodies want to keep us up and awake to experience what we can before we all go,” Jongho thinks out loud.</p><p>Seonghwa nods to concur.</p><p>“You know, hyung, the others got me thinking a lot,” Jongho says. “I know I don’t always talk about my emotions, and I’m not a <em>huge </em>fan of physical affection, but… that doesn’t mean I don’t love you guys.”</p><p>“Of course,” Seonghwa says understandingly.</p><p>“I might not be able to feel it as strongly as San-hyung does, but I do. I let them know that, and I wanted to come over and let you know that too. I was going to tell Hongjoong-hyung, but… yeah.”</p><p>“You can tell him in the morning.”</p><p>In the morning, when the sun rises and it will be less than a week until the world explodes.</p><p>They’re all trying. Seonghwa can see it at breakfast, where their vigor for ‘making the most of it is slowly slipping away. Where sunken eyes and bruises on their necks are how they are ‘making the most of it’ because they don’t know how else to do so. They’re <em>tired</em>.</p><p>Seonghwa looks over at Hongjoong, still peacefully asleep, hopefully deeply so.</p><p>“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” Jongho says. “Will we even feel it? Or will we just all cease to exist in an instant?”</p><p>Seonghwa imagines that it won’t hurt.</p><p>However, everything leading up to it does.</p><p>“All of our work… all the time we spent together… it wasn’t all for nothing, was it?” Jongho wonders in a small voice.</p><p>“No,” Seonghwa answers immediately. “Even if we all cease to exist, even if nobody will survive to remember us… somewhere, somehow, we have made our mark on the universe. We existed. We weren’t nothing. So no, all of our efforts up until now weren’t for nothing.”</p><p>Jongho glances at the sleeping leader and smiles.</p><p>“I can see why Hongjoong-hyung likes you so much.”</p><p>
  <em>He loves me. He loves all of you.</em>
</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>6 days before – Yunho</strong>
</p><p>The streets are barren.</p><p>All stores have been abandoned. Supplies have run low, not for them, but for the stores. Doors are left open, items left out on the streets like handouts. Yunho figures everyone must be staying inside, spending the rest of their time with their loved ones before the world disintegrates.</p><p>Yunho and Seonghwa have been tasked with gathering birthday stuff (“Or whatever you can find,” Hongjoong told them) for six people. They have plenty of food saved back at the hotel, but Yunho has his sights set on a few specific things.</p><p>At some cheap party store, Yunho finds plastic glasses, and at a liquor store, <em>miraculously</em>, there is one bottle of champagne left.</p><p>It’s all he needs. Seonghwa agrees, though he meets him in the middle with some candles and two tubs of ice cream.</p><p>Besides, they have all they need already.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>5 days before</strong>
</p><p>It’s Yeosang’s birthday.</p><p>He tries to pull himself out of misery because this is supposed to be a celebratory day. One to commemorate the days that they will no longer have, to remember the days that they once did.</p><p>Yeosang can’t help but smile when he sees what Yunho and Seonghwa procured for them. He laughs when Seonghwa sticks six candles in the one tub of ice cream. None of them complain that the ice cream will melt, <em>they’ll melt soon enough anyway</em>, so Yeosang and the members who won’t live to see their birthdays blow out the candles in unison, cheering for their lost days and digging into the ice cream.</p><p>There’s just enough champagne for the eight of them. Even though their glasses aren’t filled up all the way, there’s still other alcoholic beverages stowed away in their fridges. But for the time being, they all raise their glasses.</p><p>“To… us,” Seonghwa says. “We’ve made our mark on the world. We lived. We existed. Our names have been heard by millions. All that we’ve done, all the struggles we’ve been through, they were not for nothing. And even though we will disappear with the rest of the world, I don’t regret a single thing up until this point. I love each and every one of you with all I have, and I will until we die.”</p><p>“To us,” Yunho repeats.</p><p>“<em>To us</em>!”</p><p>Wooyoung downs his, as does Yunho. The rest of them sip. To Yeosang’s surprise, Wooyoung is the one to stand up on the chair, raise his empty glass to the ceiling, and declare, “This is our fucking world, and we will go down with it!”</p><p>“Hear hear!” Jongho shouts.</p><p>Yeosang laughs at his hopelessly hopeful best friend, his first love.</p><p>He finds himself singing along to Wooyoung’s belting of ‘Answer.’ They all do.</p><p>They’re not even drunk. Just high on the rest of their lives and the hope that they desperately cling onto because if they don’t, they might as well be dead already. Through pitchy lyrics and rowdy laughter and tears, they sing the remnants of their legacy.</p><p>And as it turns out, two beds can fit all eight of them.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>4 days before</strong>
</p><p>They don’t leave the bed(s).</p><p>When it’s time to eat, they sit at the table, but right after, when their stomachs are full and they’re ready to go to sleep again, they lay back down and don’t say a word.</p><p>San kisses every single one of them. He feels them, familiarizes himself with them, lips and face and body, because he wants to be the one to recognize them even in darkness.</p><p>Even when he no longer has hands or lips to feel them with.</p><p>“Hongjoong-hyung,” San whispers against his leader’s lips. They’re trembling. San has his thumbs right below his eyes, ready to catch the tears when they fall. “You have no idea how much we love you. No fucking idea.”</p><p>There are hands everywhere on Hongjoong’s body. He doesn’t keep track.</p><p>There are words of love and woe being whispered in his ears. He listens to each and every one of them.</p><p>They sign their names. San draws little mountains. Mingi draws his face in the form of straight lines. Yunho’s signature looks like lightning. Yeosang draws his little character. Jongho draws an apple. Wooyoung looks like he copied Yunho’s.</p><p>With each of their signatures now permanently etched into Hongjoong’s brain, Hongjoong signs his own. It hurts just like any tattoo would.</p><p>He is the first to fall asleep that night.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>3 days before</strong>
</p><p>Hongjoong sleeps for sixteen hours.</p><p>When he finally wakes up, it’s raining, and the members are playing their songs. They’re humming along quietly in their best efforts not to wake their leader.</p><p>“Good morning,” Seonghwa says to him as soon as his eyes are able to see. “Or… good afternoon. Sleep well?”</p><p>Hongjoong barely nods. He’s still tired, but perhaps it’s to be expected. He’s surprised his body hasn’t given out by now.</p><p>Staring at his members with all the love and admiration in the world, he blinks away his tears and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it until skin breaks.</p><p>“Hyung,” Yunho says, “thank you.”</p><p>Hongjoong scoffs a laugh. “For what?”</p><p>“Everything,” Yeosang answers.</p><p>Thunder rumbles in the distance and it makes Hongjoong flinch. It makes him think about what it will sound like when the asteroid crashes into the Earth and destroys everything. The next thing he knows, his hands are over his ears, much like Mingi during the altercation in the beginning, and someone is cradling his body.</p><p>“It’s coming,” Wooyoung says.</p><p>When Hongjoong glances up, the Spanish news anchor looks like he hasn’t gotten much sleep. He doesn’t talk as enthusiastically, but how could he when everything is going to be destroyed in just a few days?</p><p>“What a trooper,” Jongho quips. “He’s still at it.”</p><p>There’s an image on screen. It’s not just a white dot anymore. It’s a full-sized picture, the quality still grainy, but the rock is <em>there. </em>Monstrous and threatening.</p><p>“So this is it, huh? It’s really coming for us. We’re all going to die,” Wooyoung comments flatly.</p><p>“Yeah,” Yunho says. “Guess we are.”</p><p>“Hyung.” Mingi’s deep voice cuts through it all. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Hongjoong frowns, wincing as another round of thunder bursts in the background. “What are you sorry for?”</p><p>“For all the times I’ve… you know, made fun of you. Trust me, hyung. No one would’ve made a better leader than you.”</p><p>They’re surrounding him again.</p><p>“Yeah,” San says. “You’ve led us well. You brought us here, to this point. We’re still together, aren’t we? You were… <em>are </em>the glue that keeps us from falling apart.”</p><p>“We are grateful, hyung.” Yeosang slides his fingers into the leader’s hair and presses a kiss to his temple.</p><p>Wooyoung’s fingers slip into the spaces between his. “Thank you, hyung. You’ve done so, so well.”</p><p>The youngest rests his head on Hongjoong’s chest, now heaving with weary sobs. “We’re proof of that, aren’t we?”</p><p>Hongjoong’s words are devoured by convulsive sobs. As much as he tries to get the words out, he doesn’t, he can’t, not when his members are holding him like this, grounding him, making sure that he’s <em>safe</em> even though he knows none of them are.</p><p>His head is in Seonghwa’s lap. Wooyoung and Mingi are holding his hands. Jongho’s head is on his chest, San’s is on his stomach. Yeosang is leaning against Seonghwa, hand in Hongjoong’s hair.</p><p>“It’ll always be us,” Seonghwa says.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>2 days before</strong>
</p><p>They let Hongjoong sleep.</p><p>They feed him when he wakes up, but don’t stop him from going back to sleep.</p><p>“He’s making up for all the sleep he lost while working in the studio,” San jokes lightheartedly.</p><p>Seonghwa chuckles. Of course it isn’t the case, but in a bittersweet kind of way, it makes sense.</p><p>“Do you think I was too tough on him?” the eldest asks.</p><p>Yeosang is quick to shake his head. “You scolded him because you care about him. We all wanted him to come home, get some sleep. Just… we didn’t have as much power as you.”</p><p>“Power is kind of irrelevant now, I feel,” Jongho mumbles.</p><p>“He did all of it for us,” Seonghwa says, ignoring the urge to pet the leader’s hair just as he’s done plenty of times before. Hongjoong looks so peaceful like this, with his eyes fully closed, locked away in dreamland where, hopefully, things aren’t as grim as they are in the corporeal world. “He lost sleep for us. He sacrificed a lot for us. Everything he’s done until now… he’s done for us. I can’t <em>really </em>be mad at him.”</p><p>Seonghwa looks over at the armchair where Hongjoong’s laptop is. It’s not plugged in.</p><p>“I guess now… he’s doing something for himself.”</p><p>Seonghwa gives into the temptation and caresses the leader’s cheek. Beneath Hongjoong’s closed eyelids, there’s a twitch, but nothing more.</p><p>The oldest closes his eyes and wills his tears away so they don’t fall on his face.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>The day before – Hongjoong</strong>
</p><p>Hongjoong wakes up to endless touches and lips skimming every inch of his skin.</p><p>He’s quick to act because he soon realizes that their time is coming to an end.</p><p>Seonghwa is the one to rid him of his shirt while the rest of the members divest themselves of their clothing. In a matter of mere seconds, they’re all bare, and while they’ve seen each other naked before, it’s never been quite like this.</p><p>Hongjoong witnesses San and Wooyoung’s passion first hand with how ravenously their lips attack each other. Still in fairly unfamiliar territory, Yeosang welcomes Seonghwa with open arms and guides himself down, pressing kisses to the oldest’s torso while his thumbs splay over his nipples.</p><p>With one hand on Mingi’s cock and the other on the cleft of Jongho’s ass, Yunho throws his head back as San and Wooyoung lick eager stripes up his shaft, so in sync, like they’ve done this before.</p><p>“W-wait,” their youngest sudden says, and all of them halt. “I’ve never… done anything like this before.”</p><p>“It’s okay.” San is quick to climb over him, straddling his thighs. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”</p><p>“I-I know. Just… I want to take it easy, I guess.”</p><p>“Of course,” San says, leaning down to kiss him. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”</p><p>Wooyoung watches with pride in his heart as San tends to their youngest. His arms and legs are crossed around Hongjoong’s body, face buried in his neck, hands roaming his chest and torso before ultimately wrapping dainty fingers around his cock. “Hyung,” he murmurs, “you’re so good. So good for us.”</p><p>Hongjoong leans back and lets his head fall onto Wooyoung’s shoulder, grinding his hips backward onto Wooyoung’s cock. Feeling it leak against his back, Hongjoong whimpers in Wooyoung’s clutch, his own cock twitching in the dancer’s hand.</p><p>“You’re so beautiful, Wooyoungie,” Hongjoong whispers before Wooyoung connects their lips.</p><p>A sudden warm, tight wetness envelopes his cock then, and his eyes fly open to see Seonghwa’s pretty lips swallowing his cock. “F-fuck, Seonghwa—”</p><p>There is another set of lips at his right nipple, <em>Mingi</em>, as Hongjoong’s vocal cords betray him, letting out a guttural moan as he thrashes in Wooyoung’s arms. “<em>Nnh</em>—g-guys, I—”</p><p>“You do so much for us, hyung,” Wooyoung purrs. “Won’t you come for us too?”</p><p>Who is Hongjoong to deny the members he loves so much?</p><p>Seonghwa swallows through it all, even pinning down Hongjoong’s hips when he gets too overwhelmed.</p><p>None of them realize because Hongjoong hides it, but there are tears once more.</p><p>Exhausted, he watches the rest of their love unfold before him, where they sign their names on each other’s skin, leaving florescent bruises wherever they can. He witnesses first and last times, like when San is the one who takes Jongho’s hands and rides him, or when Mingi shyly admits that he’s not entirely sure how to top and Yunho guides him through it, or when Yeosang fucks Seonghwa from behind because Hongjoong certainly didn’t know the oldest could take it like that.</p><p>The world is spinning, the world he walks upon as well as <em>his </em>world. In all breathy and desperate moans, Hongjoong smiles and cries in euphoria and pain; his heart lurches seeing his members love each other but shatters knowing that they won’t get to forever.</p><p>
  <em>This is their last forever together.</em>
</p><p>Hongjoong doesn’t know how long they’re at it for. At some points, they pull him in again, and as tired as he is, he could never deny his members their desires.</p><p>“We want you to feel good, hyung,” Yunho tells him at one point before rutting his cock against his.</p><p>And <em>god</em>, he does feel good.</p><p>It’s the best and worst feeling he’s ever felt. The everlasting dread knowing that they won’t live to see the next sunset, but at least they’ll be together when everything comes crashing down.</p><p><em>For tonight</em>, he tells himself.</p><p>He loses track of time and how many orgasms they have. He disregards the mess, limbs paralyzed by the time the last person comes, but he’s certain Seonghwa is the one to get up and wipe everyone down.</p><p>While the kids sleep, Hongjoong buries himself in Seonghwa and cries.</p><p>“I love you,” he sobs silently, languid thrusts earning short, pleasured grunts from the oldest. “I love you… I love you…”</p><p>Seonghwa kisses him and says it back.</p><p>For once, Hongjoong is with them all in such critical final moments, and he realizes that maybe home is wherever they are.</p><p>✵</p><p>
  <strong>X</strong>
</p><p>The sky is terrifying.</p><p>Hongjoong has never seen it such a ghastly mix of gray and pink at the same time. Somehow, the air feels heavier as well, like gravity itself is sinking. He keeps the window open because as much as the sky scares him, it’s also hauntingly beautiful.</p><p>The news anchor isn’t there anymore. In fact, all the power in the hotel has gone dead.</p><p>They make sure that not a single one of them is untouched. Huddled in a spaceless cluster, they hold each other close, skin on skin, hand in hand, wherever they can touch each other.</p><p>There’s a low rumbling somewhere, but it doesn’t sound like thunder.</p><p>“Are you scared?” Wooyoung asks to nobody in particular.</p><p>“I’m terrified,” Jongho says, squeezing one of their bodies tighter. “Please… don’t let go.”</p><p>“We won’t,” Seonghwa affirms.</p><p>“Guys.” Mingi sniffles, followed by a broken whimper. “Everyone… th-thank you for t-taking care of me for so long.”</p><p>“We love you, Mingi-yah,” San says, followed by a larger chorus of those words.</p><p>Hongjoong’s skin is on fire from all the body heat, almost unnaturally so. He wonders if it’s a sign, that the end is mere <em>seconds</em> away. If the asteroid will incinerate them all within that short timespan.</p><p>He clenches his fingers, squeezing someone’s arm. “Everyone… I love you all. I love you all so much.”</p><p>“We love you too, hyung,” San cries.</p><p>“Thank you. For being beside me no matter what happened. For holding me up and giving me strength to go on.”</p><p>Gravity seems to lift then, only to be shoved back down. Hongjoong’s body jerks.</p><p>“N-no, p-please… I… I shouldn’t have waited so long. I c-can’t tell you all… just how much you mean to me.”</p><p>The ground is shaking.</p><p>“I need more time! <em>Please</em>!”</p><p>Rumbling. Thunder. Hongjoong swears he hears something explode.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry…”</p><p>A hand on his squeezes.</p><p>“Hongjoong-ah.” Seonghwa’s voice is both calm yet loud. “It’s okay. We know… how much you love us. We know how much we mean to you. After all… you led us for so long. You never gave up. You wrote countless songs for us, you lost sleep over us, you carried us so far, you saw our success. <em>You </em>are the reason we are here right now.”</p><p>They’re all crying. Hongjoong can feel their tears on his skin, imprinted on his brain, <em>everywhere.</em></p><p>It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.</p><p>Their names are sliced in half, and he squeezes so hard he’s afraid he might break someone.</p><p>“Your time in this group itself is the proof of how much we mean to you. How much you love us.”</p><p>Hongjoong’s eyes screw shut. There’s an immense pressure in his chest, threatening to yank him down with gravity.</p><p>“We will be forever thankful, Hongjoong-ah. Even when we disappear… you are the one who wrote our names on the universe. Because of you, we won’t be forgotten.”</p><p>Hongjoong screams, his body feeling like it’s being crushed, but maybe because it actually is. He doesn’t let go, <em>not a chance</em>, because his members don’t want him to. <em>He </em>doesn’t want to.</p><p>“I love you,” Hongjoong sobs. “I love you all so fucking much.”</p><p>
  <em>“We love you!"</em>
</p><p>It’s getting hard to breathe.</p><p>“<em>I promise… I won’t forget! Because of all of you, I</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sometimes, last words aren't always complete.</p><p>
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